


Bewitched

by WickedlyAwesomeMe



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic, Arthur actually knows everything, Arthur is not an oblivious prat, F/M, Female Merlin, Genderbending, Merlin in disguise, Merlin's Magic Revealed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-12-29 20:24:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 53,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12092751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedlyAwesomeMe/pseuds/WickedlyAwesomeMe
Summary: "None of us can choose our destiny, Merlin. And none of us can escape it." She had always been an unfortunate little thing, with a penchant for danger and an obvious love for clumsiness. Merlin wondered if life was purposefully being unfair to her.Retelling of the series with the obvious twist that Merlin is a girl. And oh, Arthur knows everything.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am currently obsessing over Female!Merlin fics and I wanted to write one. Hence, this story. This will only consist of 5 chapters, which will correspond to a season in the series.

Ealdor was a peaceful village. Although it is part of a kingdom famously ruled by a ruthless king, the village had never truly encountered any unfortunate incidents that caused great grief and sorrow to them. With its vast meadows and towering trees, its friendly people and quiet markets, with its warm days and cool nights, who could not fall in love with such a lovely place?

Merlin had been in Ealdor for sixteen years now, and she had always considered this as home. She established wonderful relationships with her neighbours, and perhaps even a possible love (she was still quite confused with her feelings for Will), and things were smooth and quiet and just… just _simple_.

And Merlin, for the life of her, felt absolutely empty. Yes, the village was wonderful. Yes, the village held everything she needed. Yes, the village provided her with the love that she rightful deserved. But still, something constantly niggled in her heart, something she couldn’t place finger upon.

She was different, that much she knew. Her mother constantly reminded her that, with brief fear flashing in her eyes. Although mothers were obliged to say that their children are special, Merlin’s case was different.

She truly _is_ special.

She _is_ magical.

The first time she completely understood the magic she possessed was when she was barely six. A rare invasion by their neighboring village had caused an uproar in the village, and little Merlin was terrified for herself and her mummy. Hunith, out of desperation, hid her daughter inside a barrel as the invaders barged into their house.

 _“Don’t make any noise,”_ her mother ordered.

One of the burly men was about to slash a sword against her mother’s chest. Merlin shook with unsuppressed fear and anger. She felt warm all over and with just a brief blink, the man was on the floor, unconscious. Hunith immediately brought her out of the barrel and Merlin started to cry.

 _“Did I do that, Mummy?”_ she cried in terror. 

And Hunith, with familiar fear now obviously written all over her face, merely shushed her daughter. And that was when Merlin knew she was different, in a magical kind of way.

It was a struggle to hide the special gift that she had. Sometimes, she would aimlessly think of doing something and then it _does_ happen. Hunith constantly reminded her to be discreet, to avoid using her magic at all cost, and Merlin tried very, very much. But there were random bursts of magic she could not control, and both she and Hunith knew then that perhaps, what she withheld was far more powerful than ordinary magic.

For years, Merlin was successful in hiding her magic. There were times when she felt that the villagers suspected. She heard them talk, anyway. It was always suspicious as to why they had the healthiest pigs, the most flourished garden, the warmest house, and Merlin, saddened, knew she had to be _more_ discreet.

Magic wasn’t exactly prohibited in Ealdor. It wasn’t exactly accepted, either. With their village at the border of Essetir and Camelot, with the latter infamously known for its deep loathing for magic, it was best for sorcerers and sorceress alike to keep their magic to themselves.

Things in Ealdor were the same.

Until, _he_ came.

* * *

Patrolling, they said, but Merlin was not stupid. Camelot and Essetir had always been warring against each other for years. King Cenred was not exactly a wonderful king (who was she kidding, he was a bastard) and had a couple of fights with their neighbouring kingdoms. Formidable Camelot was one of them, and to see the Prince and some of his knights _patrolling_ Ealdor was enough proof that they were feeling threatened by their king.

King Cenred was brewing something, but Merlin really didn’t know. Their king was more ruthless and annoying, and if she wasn’t a mere commoner and if magic wasn’t feared, she would have singlehandedly overthrown him. She voiced out this little fantasy to her mother, and although horrified, Hunith was holding back a _smile_. Even her gentle, kind mother agreed with her!

Thus, Ealdor drastically changed for the following days. With a royal amidst them, they scrambled about, trying to make the Prince comfortable.

Merlin had heard a lot about him. He was handsome, with soft, blond hair and handsome facial features. His eyes were round and very blue and his lips were full and pink. He was the best swordsman in all of the Five Kingdoms, and he had led a lot of battles to victory.

Apparently, people forgot to include that he was a royal _prat_. He prattled about his position with great emphasis so that people would attend to his very beck and call. He had his knights wrapped around his annoying finger and he held this smirk that only seemed to be reserved to those below him. And he wasn’t even the Prince of this kingdom!

But Ealdor being Ealdor, they welcomed any small disturbances. Poverty and desperation made them dreary, and to see a healthy monarch was refreshing. Merlin sometimes saw her neighbours, darting hopeful looks at the Prince, hoping against hope that perhaps, he could help them rise above this cruel hunger. Merlin, of course, knew that it was impossible because Prince Arthur Pendragon was as awful, if not _more_ awful, than their damned King.

She had steered clear from him for days, wanting to be as far away from a prince of a land that kills persons of magic. Just his mere presence made her skin crawl and Merlin desperately wished that he would soon leave them alone and bring their stupid ideologies with them.

One fateful night, however, when everybody was already asleep, some knights of Cenred attacked Ealdor. Apparently, it came to their knowledge that a small troop of Camelot knights were currently residing in their village.

The village was roused from their sleep as they heard the fearful clanging of sword against sword and the screams of order from the warring troops.

The night was ablaze with fire and thick with the pungent smell of blood. It was instinct for Merlin to help, and even if Hunith desperately ordered for her daughter to stay put, her pleas fell into deaf ears. Adventures like this were embraced tightly by the young sorceress. Every nerve in her body awakens with adrenaline and she just absolutely, absolutely love the feeling.

She battled against Cenred’s knights because admittedly, the Knights of Camelot were far more chivalrous and gallant (and really, Cenred’s knights were just atrocious to look at). Merlin hid behind barrels and houses, trying to be discreet and for a while she was successful.

Until, she spotted the Prince of Camelot, not far away from where she hid. He was at the mercy of one of the opposing knights, his sword kicked far from his empty hands. He was wounded, she noticed, with his sword hand bleeding profusely.

The arrogant clotpole was in a momentary state of vulnerability and Merlin knew she must _laugh_. He was an annoying little being and things would be better off without him. After all, he would someday rule in a kingdom where they executed people like her. She knew she must hate them, hate them for making her suffer, for making her _mother_ suffer. But then again, Merlin would never be Merlin if she did not have a good heart.

Hence, she stepped away from the shadows and summoned a great wind. Cenred’s knight was lifted in the air and thrown mercilessly against a tree. Merlin cringed when she heard a sickening crack and she directed her horrified eyes at the immobile knight on the ground.

Perhaps, she thought, she had gone too far. For the past few years, she’d never killed anybody with the use of her magic.

Shaken with the thought, she was not able to see an infuriated and frightful Prince of Camelot scrambling onto his feet. He grabbed his fallen sword and ran the great length between them. The sharp end of his sword was pointed threateningly at her direction and Merlin knew her secret was revealed.

How could she be stupid? He was the Prince of a kingdom trained to spot a sorcerer or a sorceress. It wasn’t a wonder she was spotted immediately.

Horror grew in her heart and she knew her fate was sealed. Merlin fell down on her knees, her eyes wide with fear. She trembled with emotions and unwittingly, tears started to form at the corner of her eyes.

“Please don’t kill me,” was all she managed to say. She grew terrified of the idea of leaving her mother. Despite her magic, Hunith never showed any disgust or loathing. Her mother was growing old and she wouldn’t be able to do the chores alone.

A small tear slid down from her face and something in the furious Prince snapped. His hold with his sword slackened and something indecipherable flashed in his eyes.

Confusion mingled with her fear, especially when Prince Arthur released his hold with his sword and gripped her by her shoulders instead. He dragged her across the village, with the battle now ended. Bodies littered on the ground and Merlin grew sick in the stomach. Her eyes desperately searched all around, hoping that her mother was not part of the deceased.

Such was her concentration that she was surprised to see when Arthur threw her inside her house. How he knew where she lived, she did not really know. But it relieved her immensely when she saw that her mother was inside, unscathed.

Merlin scrambled towards her mother’s arms and cried in relief.

Apparently, though, the Prince wasn’t done, for he took a step forward, reminding them of his presence.

As mother and daughter curiously looked at the stoic Prince, Arthur’s eyes briefly landed on Hunith’s face before he stared intently into Merlin’s eyes.

“You are coming with me to Camelot.”

* * *

Camelot was completely different from Ealdor. It was lively and colourful, exotic and wonderful. Village people bustled all throughout the kingdom. Most were in the market, buying and selling. It amazed her of the amount of children running amok. Back in Ealdor, she was one of the youngest. The castle was not too far away and Cenred’s kingdom was nothing compared to Camelot’s grandeur. The familiar Pendragon seal was scattered all over, constantly reminding the people who their ruler was. Knights of Camelot were amongst the crowd, their shiny armours standing out.

And Merlin, begrudgingly, admitted that she fell in love with the place at first sight.

The emptiness that she felt back in Ealdor seemed to be momentarily vanquished by Camelot’s beauty. She heard wonders about this place from her mother and it was like she was walking inside one of her mother’s stories now.

Reality came crashing down to her when she felt the Prince’s hold on her tightened. She was currently sitting in front of him on his horse, his grip on her tight and tense. She scowled and tried to squirm away, but his hold tightened more.

She now _absolutely_ hated him. With his arrogant eyes, annoying smirk, and loathsome attitude, Arthur Pendragon instantly became the most hated person in her life. Uther Pendragon might probably be on her top list, but she hadn’t officially met him yet; thus, Arthur easily claimed the first place.

Merlin fought so hard with him when he ordered for her to come. But one little sentence from him ceased all the exclamations bubbling inside her.

_“You are a sorceress. I can instantly kill you with just a slash of my sword.”_

And in that moment, he looked fearsome and ferocious, like a wild animal ready to pounce. She had forgotten his kingdom was infamous for killing her kind. Beside her, Hunith started to cry, and Merlin wrapped her arms around her mother for comfort.

Briefly, Arthur and Hunith’s eyes met, and Merlin was confused as to why her mother’s tears slowly subsided. There was something in Arthur’s eyes, something Merlin did not understand, that seemed to fully calm her mother down.

 _“You must come with him,”_ her beloved mother told her. Before she could even protest, Hunith drew her into a hug while her daughter cried bitter tears. _“You are not safe in Ealdor.”_

 _“And you think I am safe in Camelot?”_ she cried back, unable to see the little flinch that Arthur Pendragon made.

Hunith brushed her hand on her curly locks and managed to considerably calm her down. _“You are not destined to stay here in Ealdor forever, my daughter,”_ she said. _“You are lonely in this place. Perhaps, you will find your happiness in Camelot.”_

And so, here was she, riding on a horse with the annoying Prince of Camelot. Merlin somehow had this inkling that the Prince would hand her over to his father so that Uther would have the opportunity to build a pyre for her to give an example. The thought made her blanch in terror. If she were to die today, then her mother would be left alone.

They finally arrived in the castle, and Arthur Pendragon brought her to a room. Inside was an old man in a room full of potions, fumes, vials and books.

“Sire,” he exclaimed, surprised to see the determined prince and the frightened village girl. His eyes lingered on Merlin’s fearful face, before he shifted his gaze back to the prince. “What must I do for you?”

“You have a spare room, Gaius,” Arthur said. He, Gaius, nodded his head. “I want you to keep her here for an indefinite period of time.”

The old man was surprised with his request and once again looked at Merlin. “And, why is that, sire?” he asked.

“I am your Prince,” Arthur coldly replied. “I am not obliged to answer your questions.”

Judging from the way Gaius’ eyebrows shot up in surprise, it was a rare sight for him to see Arthur Pendragon as such. Merlin wondered what was keeping the prince on edge and turned to look at him with a glare.

“Of course, sire,” Gaius said. “As you wish.”

Arthur then turned to look at Merlin, matching her glare once he caught sight of it. “And you,” he started. “Can you shorten your hair?”

Merlin frowned, clearly surprised. She never expected those words from him. “Why must I - ”

“Answer me,” he ordered.

He looked so fearsome once again and she swallowed. “I-I can try,” she stuttered.

“Do it.”

She willed her magic and she felt a sudden release. Her eyes flashed gold and her hair instantly shortened. Beside her she heard Gaius gasped, and she feared whether he would attempt to kill her, too, like what Arthur did the first time he discovered she had magic.

“Can you conceal… _those_?” Arthur then continued, his gaze lingering on her chest. Merlin grew considerably warm and instinctively hugged herself.

“Why?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. 

Arthur’s glare darkened. “Just do it,” he spat.

Merlin sighed and heeded his order. She looked down at her chest and was surprised to see that it was as flat as a man’s. It was strange, though, because she still felt they were there.

Arthur seemed satisfied for he nodded his head in farewell before leaving.

Merlin thought he would not be coming back for today. Gaius, who turned out to be the Court Physician to the King and the Kingdom, was a nice, old man, albeit a little cranky at times. Merlin was relieved to know that he would not blabber her secret to the king. In fact, he seemed far too _happy_ to share his responsibility with her.

It was when she was chopping the liver of a frog when Arthur strode inside the room once again. Clutched tightly in his hands was a servant’s garb and he gave it to her. Curious, Merlin stood up from the bench and examined the clothes.

“These are men’s clothes,” she pointed out.

“Obviously,” Arthur said, smirking when she looked at him in confusion.

Merlin bit her bottom lip, the gears inside her head turning and turning, until everything clicked in place. With her short hair and concealed breasts, she could easily be mistaken as a boy. And now, with the clothes in her hands, she understood what Arthur Pendragon was trying to do – he was ordering her to disguise herself as a boy.

“B-but why?” she asked, downright dumbfounded.

“Because Gaius needs a new apprentice and apparently, it has to be a boy,” he stated matter-of-factly. He chewed his bottom lip and was humoured at the surprise on her face. “Idiot,” he added as a little afterthought.

She sputtered like a fish out of the sea. “I… I… um…” she mumbled, her cheeks coloring. “I… I thought you’d hand me to your father so he can decide what to do with me.”

The prince merely raised an eyebrow. “Well, aren’t we presumptuous?” he snarled, prompting her to glare. “If I wanted you dead, _Mer_ lin, I could have done so with my sword. Now, stop asking questions, and just change into those clothes.”

He made a turn to leave, but Merlin stopped him.

“Why?” she exclaimed, unable to stop herself. “Why are you doing this?”

His back was still facing her, but Merlin could see how his shoulders tensed. “I am not inclined to answer such ridiculous questions from the likes of you,” he insulted, briefly looking over his shoulder to glare at her. Normally, Merlin would have easily snapped back at him, but there was something in the tone of his voice that confused her _so_ much.

Arthur then quickly walked out of Gaius’ chambers without another glance back.

Merlin sighed and frowned at her new clothes. She darted a brief look at Gaius, who remained silent during the whole ordeal. When she met his eyes, he warmly smiled, and Merlin wondered if he knew something she didn’t.

“Your Prince is an odd one,” she pointed out, making a face.

“Oh, he is,” Gaius said, his smile widening. “And a lot more, my dear girl. He is so much more.”

Merlin, dubious, only nodded her head and strolled inside her room.

* * *

Why she saved that damned clotpole, she did not really know. But now, here was she, waiting for his arrival in his bedchambers.

It all started when Merlin delivered potions for Lady Helen. She was a beautiful lady, with looks that rivalled the other courtiers in Camelot. Merlin felt insecure in her presence, remembering her curly locks and simple features. She soon shook the envy away, constantly reminding herself that nobody knew she was a girl except the Prince and the Court Physician.

Merlin knew she should start getting used to the idea of running errands for Gaius. As the new Court Physician’s apprentice, she was stuck with the mundane tasks that Gaius excused he was too old to do. Merlin bit her tongue, restraining herself from answering back whenever Gaius ordered her to do another ridiculous task. 

After delivering the potion to Lady Helen’s bedchambers, she was able to come face-to-face with the lady herself and Merlin instantly knew that something was _wrong_. Especially because she was able to spot a strange, little poppet inside her room.

 _“What are you doing here?”_ the frantic lady asked. _“What have you seen?”_

 _“N-nothing, my lady,”_ Merlin quickly answered. _“I’m merely delivering potions from Gaius.”_ And she immediately scrambled away before she puts her foot inside her mouth.

Merlin was terrible in lying and it was a wonder how she was able to hide her magic. Now that she had to hide her gender, too, she had no idea if her honest self would be able to do it well.

That evening after her confrontation with Lady Helen was a feast in honor of the said guest. The courtiers, knights and other royals all came to witness Lady Helen’s performance. Apparently, she was a good singer.

She caught sight of Arthur numerous times, who she kept on shooting furtive glares. No one seemed to notice the hostility she held for the Prince, except for the Prince himself, who kept on returning her glares with amusement.

Morgana Pendragon then came, with a revealing dress complementing her smooth features and all eyes were instantly on hers. If there was anyone who could rival Lady Helen’s beauty, it would be Morgana. She was as fair as a rose and if Merlin felt insecure in Lady Helen’s presence, then Merlin now absolutely felt like a mere insect with Morgana in her room.

 _“Beautiful, isn’t she?”_ Guinevere, or Gwen, asked, smiling at her mistress. Merlin had met the maidservant a few days back and they instantly became friends.

“ _She is,”_ Merlin said with a smile. Although Morgana’s presence made her feel insignificant, Merlin still knew that the King’s ward was kind and generous. It was hard to dislike her when she was _very_ likeable.

Merlin thought everything would turn out all right until, Lady Helen started to sing. Merlin grew exhausted from her voice and through heavy-lidded eyes, she could see that people were one by one dropping in exhaustion, with cobwebs forming on their bodies. Merlin snapped away from her stupor and quickly covered her ears. While everybody was unconscious, she released her magic to defeat the sorceress in disguise.

Everything after that was a blur. The broken chandelier. The hurtling knife. Arthur’s bewilderment. _Her_ bewilderment. And Uther’s so-called reward to her for saving Arthur’s life.

Here was she now, waiting for the clotpole she was forced to serve, and wondered if the stars above were teaming up against her. She had always been an unfortunate little thing, with a penchant for danger and an obvious love for clumsiness.

Merlin thought if life was purposefully being unfair to her.

“I see you managed to become my manservant without me trying anything,” the Prince Prat exclaimed, announcing his presence. Merlin glowered at him and crossed her arms against her chest. She was annoyed, and very much infuriated at  _herself_ and the blasted prince.

She just wanted to go home and see her mother, and Will, and the vast meadows and the towering trees.

“Why did you agree with your father?” she rudely demanded. “I loathe you, you loathe me. The feelings between us are absolutely mutual. Wouldn’t it be annoying to have me as your manservant… _sire_?” She added her address through gritted teeth, once again reminded of her new position.

Arthur looked amused and Merlin had to restrain herself from lashing out at him with the use of her magic. Never in her life before had she ever met such an _infuriating_ man. She prided herself of her control before, although there were rare moments, but he seemed to be testing her patience. Briefly, she wondered if disguising her femininity and her magic in a dangerous kingdom was such a wise decision after all.

“My previous manservant was such a bore,” Arthur lazily said, striding inside his room to sit on his chair. He leaned his head against the head rest. He lifted his feet and placed them on top of his desk, crossing one above the other. “I’m sure you’re presence will be… _entertaining_.”

“And what am I now?” she asked, miffed. “Your personal jester?”

Arthur smirked. “Now that I think about it, I’d say that position suits you more,” he said, nodding his head in effect. Merlin bristled and clenched her fists. “And before you start trembling with unsuppressed rage, polish my armor, will you? And now that you’re at it, tend to my horse. She needs a bath and some brushing. Perhaps, you can also muck out the stables now. Oh, and my clean clothes haven’t been delivered for days. See to it that they are here tomorrow morning.”

He opened his eyes to look at Merlin, who was now comically staring at him with her mouth ajar. “Yes?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Merlin took a deep sharp intake of breath. “ _Nothing_ , sire,” she said, giving him a false smile. “Is there anything else?”

Arthur made a great show of thinking. “Oh, right, yes, my training boots need polishing, too. And” – Merlin’s right eye twitched – “I think that’s it for now. You are dismissed for the day.”

She stiffly bowed down and left. “I hate you,” she whispered and stomped away. Arthur perfectly heard her words and grinned in amusement.

Things would surely be different now, he thought.

* * *

“I… expected differently,” the dragon said, staring at her with wide, golden eyes.

Merlin scowled. “And I expected not to hear things in my head,” she spat, rolling her eyes when the Great Dragon released a deep rumble. “Why do you keep on calling my name?”

“You have a great destiny ahead of you, young sorcerer - ”

“ _Sorceress_ ,” she quickly corrected. When he looked at her in surprise, Merlin gestured at her clothes. “I’m merely disguising myself as a boy. Actually, it is Prince Arthur’s fault, but you don’t really need to know that.”

Once again, the dragon was looking at her with an expression akin to amusement. “Very well then, young sorceress,” he said, his smile unsettling. “As I was saying, you have a great destiny ahead of you, a destiny you will share with Arthur Pendragon.”

Upon hearing his name, she frowned. “With Arthur Pendragon?” she asked.

“He is destined to be the greatest king, who will unite all the kingdoms of Albion for the future generations,” he answered. “It is he who will bring back magic into this land. And it is he, and he alone, that you must stay with, Merlin. That is your destiny.”

There was a funny expression on her face. “The greatest king,” she said. “Right.” She was reminded of the petty tasks he carelessly ordered her to do, and was unable to laugh in disbelief. “You should see him then. I don’t think he has the makings of a great king.”

The Great Dragon merely smiled. “You will be surprised what Arthur Pendragon is capable of, young sorceress,” he said. “But for now, you must stay beside him and keep him safe. The young prince is in constant danger and it is up to you to protect him from those who wish him harm.”

“B-but why me?” she exclaimed, but the dragon already took flight.

“None of us can choose our destiny, Merlin. And none of us can escape it,” was his parting words before he completely disappeared from her sight.

Merlin, perturbed, turned around and stomped away. In a span of a week, she was able to shoulder three huge responsibilities – Gaius’ apprentice, Arthur’s manservant, and apparently, the clotpole’s savior.

She was just an ordinary girl (well, as ordinary as a sorceress can be)! She had dreams for herself and none of what was happening to her right now was part of it.

* * *

She was waiting, _smugly_ , and Arthur expelled a soft sigh.

He was a man of pride, with an honor to defend and a reputation to maintain. As the Prince of Camelot, a lot was expected from him. He had been trained to become a knight and a king by his father and his tutors ever since he was young, and along the way, he kind of picked up his true importance to the kingdom. He was always, always a special boy, with a special task and a special responsibility.

And so far, he was doing well. He became the mightiest swordsman of the Five Kingdoms and the proud trainer of the finest knights Albion had ever seen. He was dashing and gorgeous, with eyes as blue as the seas and blond, windswept hair that he always playfully ruffled in effect. He was smart and courageous, unwavering and loyal. He was _everything_ Camelot needed, women desired, and men envied.

But then things changed once his pretty eyes laid upon Merlin of Ealdor. Back in the village when they visited and ridiculously excused they were _patrolling_ , he had seen her, running around, with curly, black hair billowing behind her back. Her blue eyes were wide with innocence and spirit. But what caught his attention the most was her smile.

She was… good to look at. Not pretty, oh no. He’d seen far prettier girls than her, with golden hair and beautiful body. Merlin would pale in comparison to all of them. Annoyingly enough, he couldn’t get rid of the image of her smiling face.

It annoyed him to bits and pieces to see that she completely ignored him while he and his knights were in her village. It _annoyed_ him to bits and pieces to see that her attention was solely on a village boy named Will. And no one had ever ignored him before; thus, Arthur believed she was one of the most dislikeable person he had ever met (although her smile was, well, _likeable_ ).

And then, Cenred’s men attacked and they defended and then _she_ happened. Her eyes flashed gold and he saw how she effortlessly killed the man, despite the guilt she had shown after. He acted out of instincts and pointed his sword at her. The girl trembled in fear, but she didn’t deny her magic and Arthur was so, so torn.

 _“Please don’t kill me_ ,” she exclaimed, so softly her words were carried by the wind. But he was a stubborn man and he prided himself with his unwavering resolve. She was a mere village girl and nothing more. Not a lot of people would miss her and his father would be very proud if he discovered his son killed a sorceress.

But then she started to cry and his unwavering resolve _wavered_. He briefly remembered her smile, her smile that made him feel things, and was sickened with the fact that it was him that made her _cry._ And soon, he acted without thinking, bringing her with him to Camelot and dressing her up as a boy. It was still unknown to him why he did so, and he couldn’t, for the life of him, answer her when she questioned his intentions.

She was his manservant now, and things were going on so smoothly. The Lady Helen fiasco was a blessing in disguise. Arthur had this annoying wish to make her his manservant, but his father would get suspicious if he sacked his boring manservant and choose her instead. But then, she saved his life and here was she now.

And then _this_ – Valiant. He knew she didn’t trust him but he brushed her ridiculous suspicion aside. He was a knight, after all, and although he was admittedly _dastardly_ , Arthur could not go around accusing people. She kept on pestering him, saying that his shield had venomous snakes on it. She used those eyes of hers again, and he had no choice but to accuse the knight in front of his father, only to be shamelessly humiliated in the end.

Merlin was still adamant and Arthur was tired. He mindlessly sacked her, and the sorceress was so dejected Arthur had to bite his tongue so as not to immediately blurt out that he was joking. And for days, he had to endure the service of his previous, _boring_ manservant, all the while refusing to admit that he terribly missed clumsy, old Merlin.

While fighting against Valiant, the snakes were brought to life and Valiant grew hysterical. Horrified, Arthur fought him with equal fervor, silently thinking to himself that Merlin was right and he was a complete _idiot_.

Hence, here was he now, in Gaius’ bedchambers. The Court Physician was currently away, but Merlin was there, with an expectant look in her eyes and a knowing grin on her face.

“Well?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Gods, Arthur was a man of pride, but he was desperate, so desperate, he was forced to apologize to a servant. “I’m sorry,” he merely said. Nothing more, nothing less. The embarrassment was so huge it almost suffocated him. He wanted to turn around and leave, but then, she _smiled_ and his brain was once again a jumbled mess.

“There you go,” she said, still with that smile. “It wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

And he vigorously shook his head no, and prompted to rehire her. Although numerous complaints escaped from her mouth, Arthur couldn’t help but detect the small smile she was trying to suppress.

* * *

She was pacing when he arrived.

Arthur gave her a bewildered look and she merely sniffed.

“It will not do you good if people catch you crying,” he admonished, his voice surprisingly tight. “Suspicions may arise.”

Merlin couldn’t help but roll her eyes but chose to ignore his comment. “What news do you have?”

The Prince scoffed at her audacity and was about to lecture her about proper decorum and respect, but Merlin was just tired, _so_ tired, and she wanted to go to sleep. She had released quite a lot of magic for the day and although it was refreshing, it still had taken its toll on her.

And Arthur noticed, for he pursed his lips and merely sighed. “Guinevere has been released from the prison,” he said, prompting her to sigh in relief. “My father thinks she isn’t guilty anymore now that the afanc is dead.”

More tears slipped from her eyes, but they were more of joy now. “I’m glad,” she said, haphazardly wiping away her tears. Arthur was looking at her strangely, and she glared at him through glossy eyes. “What?”

“It was you who aided me back in the cave, wasn’t it?” he asked. Merlin almost flinched at the accusation in his voice.

She avoided his gaze. “Gaius said that the only things that can kill it are two of the other elements. In this case, I chose fire, because he is born in the water,” she said slowly, not really knowing how the prince would react when their topic was about magic.

“You could have been seen,” he snapped. “Morgana was with us, and she is loyal to Uther.”

“S-she wouldn’t tell him even if she discovered,” Merlin defended, thinking of kind, sweet Morgana.

“Still,” Arthur said, crossing his arms. “It was dangerous.”

Merlin glared and turned her eyes away from him. “Then, what was I left to do?” she spat. “I was the one who caused Gwen's false accusation. I _was_ the one who healed Tom, all right! I cannot do nothing, Arthur. I-I had to help Gwen and relieve her from the stupidity that I had committed.”

And she was crying again, damn it. She hated it when she cried. Merlin didn’t like to feel helpless.

Opposite her, Arthur expelled a soft sigh. He was struggling to find the right words to say, especially because there were _tears_ in her eyes once more. “Just… just be careful in the future,” he tiredly said in the end, before turning around and leaving a befuddled Merlin in his wake.

* * *

She was shivering when he arrived, with a blanket draped around her shoulders while she carefully ate her porridge. Gods, she was all right and that was all that mattered to him. He leaned heavily against the doorframe upon seeing her recovering form and Arthur banished the images of her dying and helpless form.

When she was poisoned, he believed it was the most frightening day he ever had. And he just knew, because she saved his life, that he must save hers, despite his father's refusal. He just got released from the dungeons for disobeying his father’s order, and he was so exhausted and tired. But before going to his bedchambers, he just had to make sure that she was all right.

He took another step forward, alerting her of his presence. Merlin swivelled around, her face still pale with a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead. Nonetheless she smiled at him, and Arthur felt a small lump forming in his throat.

“I see you’re still alive,” he casually said.

“No thanks to you,” she rasped out, her voice still hoarseness due to disuse.

They were silent for a while, and wonder filled her eyes. Arthur tried to desperately hide the feelings that formed in his heart when she was still dying and… oh God, _oh God_ , she almost died and it was because of him.

“T-thank you,” Arthur started, and he swore his eyes brightened a little. “For saving my life.”

And she smiled, so brilliantly Arthur felt that every guilt he had for putting her in danger all melted away. “And you saved mine,” she said. “So, thank you, too.”

Arthur swallowed, not willing himself to speak. Merlin must have seen something in his eyes for she slowly stood up and wobbled closer to him. His arms were instantly outstretched in front of him in case she fell (and he would dive down or jump up just to catch _her_ ). And then, she stopped a few meters in front of him and lifted her hand. To his surprise, she patted his head, that same gentle smile still stretched on her face.

“Thank you, Arthur,” she said once again, and Arthur’s breath hitched.

He gave her a shaky smile and restrained himself from wrapping her tightly in his arms. “Of course,” he said and she continued to smile.

* * *

She hadn’t served him for the following days, and she knew Arthur must be infuriated to her by now. But she couldn’t bring herself to serve him once again, after how he failed to defend Lancelot from his father’s harsh verdict. Again, it was her fault, her _entire_ fault, that a friend of hers was to be sentenced to death.

She heard his arrival even before she turned around. His harsh “Merlin” made her flinch, but she continued to be stubborn.

“Look at me when I speak to you,” Arthur snapped, walking closer to her and clutching her arm. He forced her to look at him and Merlin, with all the willpower she could muster, tried to remain tear-free. “Why haven’t you attended to your chores?”

“I’m sorry, sire, I’m just too tired,” she said, casually shaking his hand away from her arm. She took a step back at him and was unable to restrain a glare.

Arthur matched her glare and crossed his arms. “Lancelot is banished instead,” he said, and Merlin slightly deflated. “He saved my life, after all.”

But she expected something else, something more, and she knew Arthur saw the disappointment in her eyes. Kind Lancelot, with handsome, honest eyes, and a deep desire to become a knight and defend the needy was banished from the kingdom of Camelot all because of her.

She knew it was her fault, but she couldn’t help but lash out at Arthur, too. “He could have been a brave knight,” she whispered, infuriated with the unfairness of it all. Why can’t commoners, brave and strong, be knights, too? Why must innocent girls, with a simple wish to practice magic, be killed for what they were born with?

Camelot was an unfair kingdom.

“He broke the law,” Arthur said. “ _You_ broke the law. And he must be punished, and banishment is his punishment.”

“Why can’t we break another law?” Merlin implored. “You started with me, Arthur. You _broke_ the law for me. I’m a sorceress. Aren’t you supposed to be disgusted of people like me?” He flinched at her statement. “And I’m a b-blasted girl, who is disguising herself as a boy to become to Court Physician’s apprentice and the Prince’s manservant. I… If anyone is to be punished, it must be _me_.”

She didn’t know why he grew so furious of her words. In three big strides, he was in front of her, his form menacing and frightful and Merlin felt _scared_. He grabbed her right wrist and held it tight. “If it isn’t because of me, you would be dead right now,” Arthur hissed. “ _How dare_ \- ”

“Why am I even here?” she tearfully asked, the tears now gathering in her eyes. The sight of them slackened Arthur’s hold and an unreadable expression appeared on his face. “I just… I just w-want to go home.”

Arthur fled, without a glance back.

* * *

“My father is a ruthless man, Gaius, I’m sorry,” Arthur said, surprising Merlin when he bowed down in regret. “I hope his moment of… of weakness can be overlooked.”

Gaius smiled and ushered Arthur to straighten his back. “I am sure your father was merely doing his job,” the old physician said. “And I cannot blame him for thinking about the welfare of Camelot above all else.”

Lies, all lies, but Merlin held her tongue. Uther was blinded by Edwin’s brilliance in curing Morgana and he didn’t fire Gaius, the man who had served him for ages, because it was for the betterment of the kingdom. It angered Merlin so much and Uther now officially held the top spot of the most loathsome person she had ever met.

The way Arthur’s eyes flashed made Merlin understand that, he too, did not believe Gaius’ words. But Uther was his father, and he was obligated to love him no matter how ruthless he had become.

Briefly, Arthur’s eyes connected with hers, and she sighed. She couldn’t blame him for Gaius’ momentary suffering this time, no matter how much she desperately tried to. Hating Uther came so naturally, and it should be the same case with Arthur. But he took it upon himself to humble himself down before Gaius and apologize on behalf of his father. Uther, who was the one who made a mistake in this whole ordeal, merely reinstated Gaius as the Court Physician once again as if nothing happened.

Uther and Arthur’s differences were becoming startlingly obvious. And Merlin, no matter how awful it sounded, wished that Arthur’s reign as king would come sooner.

* * *

“You idiot! Arthur! Arthur! Come on,” Merlin frantically exclaimed, desperately dragging the unconscious Prince back on the ground. The water from the lake made him heavier than necessary, and Merlin had to muster all of her strength to save him. 

 _‘Stupid Sidhe, stupid Sidhe, stupid Sidhe,’_ she kept on muttering to herself why she pumped out water from Arthur's lungs. 

It was all their fault Arthur was on the brink of dying and she would never, _ever_ forgive a Sidhe if she ever crosses path with one in the future.

A few days back, Sophia and her father, Aulfuric, came into Camelot, helpless and needy and damn it, they all believed their lies. Until Arthur started to show obvious interest towards the girl and Merlin just felt so… so _infuriated_. Arthur neglected all of his duties, prompting Merlin to be the receiving end of the punishment Arthur should have rightfully deserved.

Merlin should have listened to Morgana’s warnings, despite how unsettling they sounded. The Sidhes were about to sacrifice Arthur to go back to their world and she could not believe how selfish they could be. They should have known how great Arthur would be in the future, and his destiny that would change the future.

“Come on, you clotpole!” she cried, tears now streaming down from her face.

To her utmost relief, Arthur started to cough out the water he swallowed. Merlin sagged in relief and continued to cry, placing her head on top of his heaving chest. Arthur weakly placed a hand on her neck and absent-mindedly patted it for comfort.

“What happened?” he asked as Merlin straightened up and looked down at him again.

“You were enchanted by Sidhes,” she said, a bitter tone in her voice. “And they tried to drown you.”

If it was possible, Arthur paled more. “Sophia?” he said. When Merlin pursed her lips and nodded, Arthur groaned and rolled his eyes. “I should have known. I felt something _weird_ once my eyes settled upon her.”

And then, Merlin started beating his chest with unsuppressed fury. “You could have died, you clotpole,” she cried, her tears increasing. “She’s beautiful, all right, I know. And you fell for her, you useless man. And now, you almost died and it’s all… _all_ your fault and your stupid weakness for beautiful women and… and…” And she deflated, too exhausted to continue berating him.

Arthur, on the other hand, was staring at her with such a comical expression on his face Merlin couldn’t help but glare. “What?” she spat, loudly sniffing.

The Prince had the audacity to laugh, which was surprisingly boisterous for his state, and he just shook his head. He sat up and gleefully trapped her in his arms. Merlin froze in his embrace, but gradually relaxed, but continued to cry.

“I thought you already died,” she whispered so softly, wishing Arthur hadn’t heard.

But he did, and his heart skipped a beat. She was right, after all. He had this stupid weakness over beautiful women… but in his case, though, he had this stupid weakness over a _particular_ beautiful woman and she has no damn clue in the whole world.

* * *

“Arthur,” Morgana beseeched, her beautiful eyes shining with tears. “He’s just a boy.”

The Prince sighed, his eyes briefly landing on the frightened, Druid boy. He was just a boy, all right, but he was a _Druid_ and it was rightful to kill him. But then, here was Morgana, asking him to help the _boy_. He always knew that Morgana has a kind heart, and despite her earlier lies of not keeping the Druid boy in her bedchambers, Arthur suspected the truth.

“You know I can’t help,” Arthur said, shaking his head. The little boy trembled and he hid behind Morgana, as if already knowing the fate that was in store for him. “I can’t, Morgana, I’m sorry.”

The King’s ward started to earnestly cry, and although it pained him to see her like this, Arthur knew he had to refuse no matter what.

“Arthur,” Merlin whispered from the corner. She had been quiet during the whole exchange, and it surprised him to discover that she was still in the room. Arthur then looked at her. “ _Please_.”

Her eyes were bright with suppressed tears. Her hands were trembling, which she now curled into fists. She was afraid, _so_ afraid, for a life of the little boy.

Briefly, Arthur imagined it was her that the guards were looking for, perusing every corner of the kingdom, while his father sentenced her to death for being a sorceress. He blanched with the thought and some of his breath was knocked off of him. He tightly closed his eyes as her screams rang in his ears as the fire at the pyre licked her dress and then… and then… she was gone.

His resolve had broken and he shakily opened his eyes once again. When they landed on Merlin’s, she must have seen the expression on his face, for she broke into a brilliant smile. She was smiling again, and that was all that really mattered to him.

“Meet me at midnight,” he tiredly said, surprising both Morgana and the Druid boy. “Don’t be late.”

* * *

“You!”

Merlin flinched when a loud bang was heard in Gaius’ bedchambers. The Court Physician looked up from his book in surprise, and upon seeing an enraged Arthur Pendragon, Gaius rolled his eyes and stood up from his seat.

“I must take my leave,” he said, ignoring Merlin’s pleading looks. Arthur didn’t even seem to notice him leave and instead strode purposefully towards her.

“How could you agree with my father’s plans?” he hysterically asked. “He could have died!”

“And so could you,” she answered, surprised at how calm her voice sounded despite the loud pounding of her heart. Arthur could be honestly scary when he wanted to be. “And your father knew this, so he ordered me to drug you. He has your best interests in his heart, Arthur. And besides, the wraith was after him. You couldn’t have killed it if you want to.”

Which was a complete lie, of course, because of the magical sword the Great Dragon gave to her. She flinched at the memory of his enraged tirade after discovering it was Uther who used to sword, and immediately stole the sword so she could throw it away as far as possible.

“My father is growing old,” Arthur growled. “Do you realize that he had placed himself in danger by battling the blasted monster?”

Merlin sighed and shook her head. “I’m sure you’ve confronted your father already and he explained himself, so I’m not really sure as to why you’re getting angry with me,” she said, frowning at his ridiculous behaviour. Sometimes, Arthur could be melodramatic.

He was about to burst once again, but then stopped himself and sighed. Arthur plopped down on the nearest chair and buried his face in his hands. 

“The sword,” Arthur stated, slowly lifting his head to look at Merlin. “That sword that he used… it had something to do with you, hadn’t it?”

Merlin’s eyes widened. Arthur wasn’t supposed to know that. “H-how did you know?” 

“He was babbling about it, and then mentioned your name in the process,” he said. “I placed two and two together, and I knew it must have been _your_ doing.” Conflicting emotions appeared on his face. “I… why did you help him, Merlin?”

She bit her bottom lip and looked away from him. “He didn’t deserve to die,” she smoothly lied.

Arthur snorted. “Oh, my father deserves to most absolutely die for all the atrocities he had done in the past and the present,” the Prince snarled, prompting her to flinch. “So why, pray tell, did you help him after all the things he had done to your kind?”

She knew right there and then she had no choice but to answer his question. “Because you love him,” she softly said, returning her gaze back on his face. “B-because I know you’ll be devastated if he dies and you’d blame yourself.”

He was stunned with her response and sprung up from his chair with so much speed. In just a blink, he was in front of her, so close, so _near_ , and Merlin felt uncomfortable under his piercing gaze. There was something in his eyes that confounded her, and she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

“Y-you - ” he whispered, his breath brushing against her red cheek. And then, the spell was broken and he took a few careful steps back. Merlin found herself properly breathing again and she stared at the prince, wide-eyed and downright confused. “T-thank you, Merlin.” He shifted his gaze away from her, and his cheeks grew bright.

Merlin, equally flustered herself, merely nodded her head, not trusting herself to speak.

* * *

He knew following them was a bad idea, but it was _Merlin_ for goodness’ sake. How could he resist her pleas?

A few days ago, her mother arrived in Camelot to seek help. She was clearly wounded, but her pains were forgotten upon seeing her daughter who was, to her utmost surprise, disguising herself as a boy. But after some explanations from Gaius and Merlin, and even _him_ , she fully understood her reasons. It didn’t help, though, that Hunith kept on giving him strange looks.

Apparently, she arrived to seek help from the king because of a man named Kanen, who was terrorizing her village. Ealdor wasn’t part of Camelot, so he knew it would be unlikely his father would agree. It didn’t surprise him that Uther disagreed.

He already rehearsed an apology speech to Merlin, with words of defense for his father and an assurance that Kanen would soon tire of their village and leave them alone. But when on that night Merlin told him she was to leave for Ealdor, his speech was forgotten and he knew right there and then that he must follow her, no matter what.

They arrived in Ealdor, and Hunith must have alerted Merlin’s disguise for they kept their mouth shut despite giving her furtive glances. Morgana and Gwen were with them after all, so all hell would break loose if they discovered that the Prince’s manservant was actually a girl.

For days, Arthur trained the men _and_ the women to fight, and he at first thought it was a hopeless case. They were never born to hold a sword in their life, but their determination was astounding. Merlin’s faith in them was an added bonus to his deep desire to help them.

There was a little problem, though, and it was embodied by her best friend, Will. He remembered seeing him back then and he briefly wondered if they were lovers. Arthur couldn’t concentrate whenever he saw them together. Will seemed to equally hate him, and there was this unspoken rivalry between two men.

On the day they were to attack Kanen, everything passed by with a blur. All he could remember was a huge whirlwind and numerous dead people once again because of Merlin and he was _terrified_ – for her and her secret. As he went towards them, Will caught an arrow for him and died, with a horrified Merlin hovering above his body.

And Arthur… Arthur blamed himself for bringing tears in her eyes. The arrow was aimed to him, but the blasted man just had to show-off until the very end.

The Prince felt so guilty for hating the man, and the image of Merlin’s tearstained face still haunted him.

They went back to Camelot now and Merlin was relieved from her duties. Arthur terribly missed her, though, so it was a surprise to him when she one day came with his breakfast tray balanced on both of her hands. Arthur was instantly brought to his feet and Merlin backpedalled in surprise. She almost let go of the tray, if it wasn’t for Arthur’s quick hands, which relieved her from her burden. 

An awkward silence followed and Arthur was terrified to discover he was speechless. Even the normally talkative Merlin was silent, and he found it extremely uncomfortable.

“I…” Arthur started, swallowing and looking away. “I-I’m sorry for what happened to… err… Will.”

Pain briefly flashed in her eyes, but she then smiled. It wasn’t the strained and forced one, and it immensely relieved Arthur. “I know you are,” she said. “That is why you shouldn’t blame yourself.”

“The arrow was supposed to be targeted to me,” he snarled, annoyed that she was saying such words. He expected her to blow up to him, to blame him for her best friend’s death, but she neither did any, and it made him feel more awful about himself.

“William is a good man,” she told him. “Despite the attitude that he had showed to you, he knows you mean a great deal to me – to _Camelot_ , so he did what he thought was right.”

She blushed and Arthur was positively sure he was mirroring her expression. He caught her brief slip and _swore_ his heart soared with her words. All the guilt he had was momentarily forgotten and he just stared at her, disbelieving.

“So, yes, well… um,” she stuttered, “I brought you breakfast because I know I’ve been neglecting my duties for the past few days.”

And Arthur, not trusting himself to speak, merely nodded his head.

* * *

“You are an annoying idiot, do you know that?” Merlin exclaimed as she and Arthur returned to Camelot. The Prince, after considerably recovering from the sleeping draught that Anhora gave him, shot his manservant a brief look of annoyance.

“I think we’ve already established that,” Arthur said, a soft yawn tearing away from his mouth. The effects of the sleeping draught hadn’t entirely worn off yet, but Arthur insisted for them to return. He wanted to see once and for all if the sacrifices he made finally paid off.

But Merlin wasn’t finished. “What if what you drank was really poison?” she continued, bordering hysterical. “You’re life isn’t worth sacrificing, Arthur. Better for a servant to do it than a future king.”

Arthur scoffed. “Then, I would have failed my task,” he said. “Camelot will be forever doomed all because of me.” He glared at her, about to retort something back, when he noticed with sheer horror that there were tears in her eyes and her hands were trembling.

“Your life is always worth more than mine, Arthur,” she whispered, looking at him intently, a silent warning of the coming future. “Remember that.”

“But not to me, Merlin,” he answered back, prompting her to widen her eyes. “Not to _me_.”

If he were to drink a thousand poisons just to keep her alive he would _gladly_ do it.

* * *

“What’s this I heard?”

Merlin pursed her lips and glared darkly at Gaius. The Court Physician sighed and shook his head, once again striding out of the room. It was starting to become a routine. Every time something drastic happens in Camelot and Merlin was involved, Arthur would barge in, Gaius would leave, and Merlin would be the receiving end of the prince’s wrath.

Sometimes, Gaius was a ridiculous man.

“I’m waiting, Merlin,” Arthur said.

His manservant sighed and turned around. What beheld her was a stern Arthur, with his arms tightly crossed against his chest. He looked stressful and tired, and in his eyes, she could the hope that what he heard would not be true.

“Gaius was right,” Merlin said, and fear appeared in Arthur’s eyes. “Morgana tried to kill Uther.”

It seemed like he was let loose, with his arms now falling limply in his sides. Arthur heavily leaned against the doorframe, trying to let her words sink in. “B-but why?” he asked, looking at her imploringly. “My father loves Morgana very much. I-I can’t believe…”

“But she didn’t, in the end,” Merlin said to appease. “She saved him in the end.”

Arthur’s eyes quickly shot back at hers, and they instantly narrowed. “You’re not telling me something,” he said.

Merlin sighed. How come he could easily read her now? “N-no, I think you’re just imagining things, sire,” she shot back.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he replied back with a glare. “If you want me to spare you from the stocks, then you better tell me.”

His manservant thoughtfully nibbled her bottom lip and looked away from his piercing gaze. “I-I fear for Morgana’s future,” she said. “The dragon says she will be a threat to Camelot.”

“You speak to the dragon?” Arthur asked, bewildered. Blanching, Merlin realized she had forgotten to tell him this simple detail. When she nodded her head, the Prince snorted in disbelief. “Do you have any other secrets you wish to tell me, Merlin?”

She looked at him beseechingly, hurt, betrayal and anger on his face. “I-I don’t want to break your heart, Arthur,” she whispered. “I cannot burden you with my knowledge of the future.”

She knew he wouldn’t understand how big her responsibility was. And she refused to share it with him, only cheering him on and guiding him towards the right path. Arthur has a far greater responsibility and he had to do it without any hesitation; else, he would not achieve the greatness that he was destined to achieve.

“Why are you doing this?” Arthur suddenly exclaimed, his eyes wild and fearsome. “Why… you… you take it upon yourself to protect me, you _idiot_. I do not need your protection.”

And she merely smiled, knowing that it wasn’t true. If it weren’t for her, Arthur might be dead right now.

“It is my destiny to protect you,” she said. “And neither you nor I can change that.”

* * *

“I called for Merlin,” Arthur rasped out, glaring at the exhausted Court Physician. “Where is she?”

Gaius shook his head. “She is tired, sire,” he explained. “I am asking you to let her rest.”

But he couldn’t accept that. Here was he, with a healing arm, when people kept on telling him again and again that it was a miracle that he was alive after being bitten by the Questing Beast. He had heard stories before and knew that no mortal could escape death after being victimized by the Questing Beast. Hence, he deduced that it was Merlin who had something to do with it and he had to make sure she was all right.

“ _No_ ,” he harshly replied. “I have to see her, Gaius. _Please_ , bring her to me.”

The Court Physician sighed and placed Arthur’s healing potions on his bedside table. He left, and a few minutes later, Merlin was walking through his threshold. She looked even worse than Gaius, and momentarily, Arthur regretted calling for her.

“You called for me, sire?” she asked, offering him a small smile.

He glared in return, dumbfounding her. “What recklessness have you done once again, Merlin?” he growled, not missing the flinch that she made with the tone of his voice. “You look _awful_ and I am not going to take your excuse of exhaustion as the truth.”

She merely shook her head. “You are tired, sire,” she said. “Go back to sleep.”

Merlin made a move to turn around, but Arthur was instantly on his feet. He had not been standing for days and he swayed on the spot. Merlin, horrified, was instantly by his side, and urging him to sit back on his bed. Arthur then slid his good arm around her waist and held her close, glaring darkly down at her.

“What have you done?” he hissed. “And I want the truth, Merlin.”

And so, she told him. She told him of her meeting with Nimueh, and the fact that she bargained her life for his. But the High Priestess had other plans and instead targeted her mother. Gaius went to the Isle of the Blessed to exchange his life for Hunith, but Merlin killed Nimueh in the end, restoring the balance in the world.

By the time she was finished, Arthur had his face buried at the crook of her neck.

“Arthur?” she whispered, tentatively placing a hand at the back of his neck.

“You must stop this,” he ordered, pulling away from her. Merlin was surprised to see that Arthur’s eyes were shining with suppressed tears. “Y-you can’t just throw your life away for mine.”

“That cannot happen, Arthur,” she said with a small smile. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, to hell with your destiny!” he exclaimed. “I shouldn’t have brought you here in Camelot in the first place.” He was heaving with anger and guilt and raw despair and he just wanted her to be as far away from him as possible so that she would be _safe_. It was his entire fault she was blabbering about stupid destinies and unwanted protection. It was _her_ who needed protecting, and gods, he would gladly assume the role of her protector.

Thus, the next words he uttered broke his heart, but he knew it was for the best. “You must immediately return to Ealdor and stay there,” he ordered. Her eyes widened in shock. “I forbid you from protecting me and heaven forbid you if you break my order.”

She was instantly enraged and she squirmed out of his embrace. “No,” she admonished, her eyes dangerously flashing. “You have no right to decide what I do with my life.”

“I am your Prince,” he spat. “I have every right.”

And then, she started to cry. Earnest, honest-to-God tears, that reached Arthur’s very soul. “I-I can’t leave you behind, Arthur,” she said, looking so pitiful and wonderful and _God,_ Arthur just wanted to kiss her. “You can’t make me.”

She then turned around and left his room, her cries echoing in his ears.

Deep inside, he couldn’t shake off the great relief he felt with her words.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Retelling of Season 2. 
> 
> Arthur and Merlin are still in denial. Idiots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos!

“Merlin doesn’t wish to see you today, sire, I’m sorry,” Gaius said, desperately trying to hide a smile from his face. Arthur scowled, annoyed that his manservant was being stubborn today and the Court Physician found this whole ordeal _hilarious_.

He darkly glared at Gaius, who merely raised an eyebrow in return.

“Gaius,” the Prince beseeched. “Let me pass through.”

Gaius rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You young people drive this poor man insane,” he tutted, before striding out of his bedchambers and leaving Arthur and Merlin alone.

The Prince strode inside and immediately spotted her, a frown on her face. Upon seeing him, anger flashed in her eyes and she made a move to dash back inside her room. He thought she was being ridiculous and couldn’t help but smirk. 

"Do not turn your back from me." 

“What do you want?” she asked, crossing her arms against her chest as she swivelled around.

Arthur raised an eyebrow at her audacity. “You have no right to speak to me like that,” he shot back, lacking the obnoxious tone.

“Oh, _I’m sorry_ , I’m just trying to incessantly annoy you so that you leave me alone, _sire_ ,” she said, false sweetness in her voice.  

The Prince sighed and strode closer to the angry sorceress. He had caused this to her, especially after the whole Cornelia Sigan fiasco. Cedric just came and he was so competent and trustworthy and _different_ from Merlin. He especially wanted to rile her up because of the stubborn words she told him when he ordered her to leave. Arthur might have gone too far, giving Cedric most of her responsibilities and prompting her to be so bitter to the point of refusing to talk to him.

She warned him of Cedric and as usual, they all just fell into deaf ears. She was always right, that much he deduced, and he very much wanted to receive her forgiveness. Especially after she placed herself in danger once again. Gaius told him of Cornelius Sigan possessing Cedric. The spirit then discovered of Merlin’s vast power and _tried_ to possess her instead.

Arthur blanched with the thought of a wrathful Merlin, her eyes cold and hard and her lips stretched widely into a menacing grin. He was thankful that his manservant was powerful and just so, so strong for she was able to defeat Sigan in the end.

Thus, he was left with the task of bringing her back as his manservant. Merlin was awfully bitter of his negligence and had refused to talk to him for days. He knew he could use his power as the Prince to threaten her, to send her to the stocks, and to punish her with other ridiculous things he could think of, but the thrill of gaining her trust back overwhelmed him.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, and he saw how her shoulders slightly deflated. The frown never left her face, though, and he very much wished to see her smile once again. “I was such a clotpole and a prat. I am stubborn and rude. I fail to listen to you even if you are saying the truth. I fail to see your worth, Merlin, I’m sorry.”

It surprised him how easily the apology came out from his mouth. It surprised him more that they were _genuine_. He always had a difficulty admitting his mistakes and apologizing to those he offended. But with Merlin, it unsettled him to think he could do _anything_ just to win her trust back.

And she heard his sincerity, too, for gone was the frown and replaced by it was her disarming smile. “You really were a clotpole and a prat, sire,” she pointed out, prompting him to chuckle. “All right, I forgive you.”

Her smile turned so wide Arthur was dazzled by it. “Good,” he said, clearing his throat and head. “Because my armour needs polishing.”

Merlin rolled her eyes and Arthur raised his arms in defense. “I’m a prat, remember?” he said, pointing to himself.

He could see that she bit the inside of her cheeks to stop herself from smiling.

* * *

Why she agreed to his plan, Merlin did not really know. Now the annoying prince was causing amok in Gaius’ bedchambers while blabbering again and again about his desire to prove to his people that he could win the tourney without his status as Prince withholding the knights. Merlin knew he meant well, but his annoying attitude was, well, _annoying_ , and she was eternally grateful that the jousting tournament had finally ended, reigning Arthur as the winner, or Sir William of Deira who was really just a half-wit farm boy.

For the following days, Arthur lived as a commoner, and Merlin couldn’t help the astonishment she felt with his wonder, disgust, and plain bemusement. He told her one time that he thought he knew everything that was happening in his village. As he assumed the role of a peasant, he was able to have the privilege to actually know the peasants he was ruling under.

Although his attitude was unbearable, Merlin thought this whole disguising thing was actually a good thing. She saw glimpses of the great king Arthur was to become in the future, and the determination to protect him from those who wished him harm grew.

“Oi,” Arthur said, tapping her hand. “You’re silent.”

Merlin snapped off from her stupor and stared opposite her master. He prepared a small dinner for her, which she knew was obviously from the royal kitchens _._ She did not have the heart to tell him she knew because he was so proud of himself. He said it was a slight thank you for her help, and Merlin admittedly was floored. He didn’t need to know that small part, of course.

“Just thinking,” she finally said, expelling a soft sigh. “Soon, I’d be forced to do your chores once again.”

Arthur snorted. “Idiot,” he said, a strange lilt in his voice. When she looked at him, he quickly ducked his head down.

Their dinner continued, and soon, it was Arthur’s time to return to being the Prince. Merlin secretly knew she’d terribly miss his constant presence in Gaius’ bedchambers. She knew she was being silly, especially because she would still see him _everyday_ , but it was different when he was just a mere commoner.

“I expect a scrumptious breakfast tomorrow, Merlin,” he reminded, shrugging his cloak on. He was still wearing a peasant’s garb, and his father would get an aneurysm if he saw what his only heir was wearing. But then, it was late at night and nobody was awake to see the Prince lurking around.

“Farewell, Merlin,” he said, prompting her to chuckle.

“I’d still be seeing you tomorrow, sire,” she said. “There is no need for your farewells.”

He smiled a little, sad smile. “It wouldn’t be the same anymore,” he confessed. There was something in his voice that clenched her heart, and she looked away from him, horrified to feel the misery in her heart.

“Farewell, then, Arthur,” she replied back, offering him a soft smile. And for a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. He was so close that she could feel his warmth and his nose brushing against hers. She could already count his wonderful eyelashes and his eyes were so near she was afraid she would drown soon.

But then, Arthur stepped away and the spell of the moment was broken. Merlin felt so disappointed that she had to look away to hide what she felt.

“Farewell,” Arthur said once again and strode out of the room. Merlin stared longingly at the door, wondering how it would have felt like if she at least felt his lips pressed against her one.

 _'Snap out of it, Merlin_ _,'_ she mentally berated herself. It would not do her any good if she entertained such thoughts. 

Just when she was about to go back to her room and sleep, a loud rapping from the door surprised her. She quickly looked at Gaius, and thankfully, he was still fast asleep.

Wondering who was knocking at such an ungodly time of the day, Merlin opened the door, only to slightly topple back when Arthur’s arms wound around her torso and _kissed_ her.

He was so warm and so sweet and so gentle and everything that Merlin imagined him to be. His hand was running through her short hair and she wondered what it would feel like if she removed her disguise charm. Her brain ceased to work soon, and she was earnestly kissing him back.

He pulled away too soon, with an indecipherable look in his eyes. He was horrified and pleased, fearful and ecstatic at the same time. Merlin still felt so dizzy from their kiss and helplessly stared while Arthur turned away and fled without a glance back.

* * *

“Morgana is a sorceress,” Merlin quietly revealed to him, and Arthur shook with overwhelming emotions. He always suspected that there was something different about Morgana, something _special_ , and he feared for the worse. After all, he was protecting a sorceress, too – it wouldn’t be hard for him to spot the similarities between Merlin and Morgana.

Days ago, a fire started in Morgana’s room, and Merlin and Gaius suspected that it was the King’s ward’s doing. Arthur was bewildered with their accusations and actually grew horrified. It didn’t help that after a few days, Morgana was kidnapped.

 _“She isn’t,”_ Merlin told him. _“She is safe. Trust me.”_

But he didn’t, and he grew infuriated with her. Uther ordered for Arthur and his troop to scour the lands and search for Morgana. Although he was angry with Merlin, he had no choice but to bring her with them. She suddenly slinked away from the group and Arthur suspected she was warning whoever ‘kidnapped’ Morgana.

They came upon an empty Druid camp, or so they thought, because soon spells were being blasted here and there. Arthur swore Merlin was creating a diversion so that Morgana could _flee_. The knights were bound to talk if they discovered that the King’s ward wasn’t kidnapped but actually willingly came with the Druids.

The Druids were able to escape and Morgana was unscathed, save from a leg injury. Merlin then came and Arthur stared at her intently, but she refused to meet his gaze.

As soon as they went back and Morgana was reunited with a relieved Uther, Arthur dragged Merlin into his bedchambers and refused to let her go until she told him what she knew.

“A sorceress,” Arthur said, calming his breath. He suddenly felt nauseous and he closed his eyes, leaning down so that the dizziness could be gone. Merlin once told him that she feared for Morgana’s future, that the dragon warned her of Morgana’s possible threat to his kingdom. Perhaps, this was what the dragon was saying.

He lifted his eyes and looked back at her. Merlin looked so exhausted and distressed, but Arthur wasn’t finished with his interrogation. “Why did you help her?” he asked.

Merlin blanched. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied, her face crumpling because she knew Arthur wouldn’t buy her lie.

He merely stared at her and waited until she was ready to answer his question.

Merlin then sighed and ran a tired hand through her face. “Morgana is scared,” she answered, frowning at the thought of the lady. “Everything’s _new_ to her and I just thought I had to help her.”

“But you once said of her threat in Camelot,” Arthur reminded her. “Aren’t you afraid of the possible consequences of helping her?”

“I’ve thought of that,” she snapped, clearly annoyed. Apparently, it wasn’t the first time that question was thrown her way. Instead of getting angry with the way she answered, Arthur waited. It was obvious that Merlin had just been through an internal battle. “I-I didn’t want to help her, but then, I saw her face, so full of fear and… and confusion that I knew I had to help.”

Her eyes slightly shined with tears as she looked back at her master. “I was reminded of who I was before,” Merlin wryly said, a small tear trailing down her eyes. “I was reminded of my mother’s fear and her desperate need to conceal me from the world and protect me from the cruelty against my kind. And I just knew that Morgana must be feeling lonely and I just… I just cannot push her away, despite the dragon’s warning.”

Arthur reached forward and touched her cheek, surprising her. Gently he brushed her tear away and leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “You did what you thought was right,” he whispered.

And she smiled at him because finally, someone understood.

* * *

His head was a jumbled mess and Arthur didn’t know what to do.

Morgana, Guinevere, and Merlin rode out for that day. Morgana was to visit the grave of her late father and Arthur, unable to come with her, asked his manservant to come in his stead. Merlin willingly agreed and went with the two of her friends.

But then, Morgana came back, clearly distressed, blubbering about kidnappers who were after her.

 _“They took Gwen and Merlin,”_ she said, earnestly crying against Arthur’s chest. _“They took them and I-I was helpless.”_

Arthur demanded for his father to let him save the two servants but Uther being Uther thought it would be worthless for a Prince to risk his life for two lowly servants. Uther had no idea one of them had a special place in Arthur’s heart.

Hence, he defied his father’s order and planned to search for them once night fell. Things changed when Guinevere, obviously rattled but unscathed, had burst into Gaius’ bedchambers. Arthur, who was giving Gaius some last minute instructions, was surprised to see Morgana’s maidservant, but Gwen cried and shook her head.

 _“Merlin… I… a girl,”_ she sputtered out. Both Arthur and Gaius exchanged a glance, knowing that Merlin’s secret was out. _“S-she removed her disguise with magic and I… I was so scared I didn’t know what to do.”_ Gwen cried so much that night, and Gaius gently coaxed her to continue. _“They’ve mistaken her as the Lady Morgana and brought her to a man named Heignst. S-she sacrificed her life for mine, G-Gaius and I don’t know what to do.”_

Arthur fled that night without bring any knights. Gwen insisted to come, but he refused. Merlin would have his head if he discovered that he brought the woman she had set free.

All throughout his journey, his head was filled with images of a tortured Merlin. He knew Heingst, and he was notoriously a bastard. Arthur couldn’t wait to have his hands wrapped around the bastard’s neck for making Merlin cry.

He battled a Wildereen and starved for days. But soon, he reached Heignst castle. He climbed its huge walls and disguised himself as one of Heignst men. There seemed to be a huge entertainment inside judging from the roars of laughter. At the Great Hall, his heart sank, for at the middle stood a vast cage with a Wildereen inside. To his surprise, Lancelot was inside, together with a terrified Merlin, clothed with a beautiful dress.

Arthur acted without thinking and barged inside. Merlin’s eyes widened upon seeing him and the Prince grew murderous, seeing the tears in her eyes. He wanted to tear the Wildereen limb by limb. He wanted to tear _Heingst_ limb by limb, and it was only because Lancelot pulled him out of the cage that stopped him from doing so.

Merlin enchanted Heignst to be locked inside the cage, so he would be the one eaten by the Wildereen. Arthur had a sick sense of smugness when he heard Heignst’s screams. _‘Good riddance, you bastard,’_ he spat.

They reached a dead end, and Merlin now was desperately using her magic to get them out. They could hear Heignst’s men scouring the whole castle to search for them.

“Where are your knights?” Lancelot asked, squinting outside. “They could give us some help.”

“I travelled alone,” Arthur said, and Merlin rounded at him in shock. He met her gaze and sighed. “My father wouldn’t allow me to rescue my manservant.”

Merlin shook and was able to finally blast the bars away. The three of them ran as far away as they could, until Arthur deemed it was finally safe for them to rest. The journey back to Camelot would take hours, and Merlin was already exhausted. He thought it would be better to retire for the night. 

“Merlin is a girl, sire,” Lancelot said, trying to gauge his reaction.

Arthur merely nodded his head. “I’ve known for a while,” he said.

Lancelot smiled. "She has - "

"Magic, I know." Arthur saw Lancelot's expression and smiled. "I've known ever since." 

He gave the prince a strange look before inquiring, “Is Guinevere all right?”

“She is,” he answered back. “Listen Lancelot I… I want to thank you for protecting Merlin.”

“He… _she_ is a friend,” Lancelot said. “And she helped before. I’d gladly risk my life for her, too.”

Lancelot was soon gone, and Arthur and Merlin were left alone. The young sorceress seemed to still be quite shaken from the events, but she seemed all right. Arthur strode towards her and removed his cloak, gently draping it around her shoulders to keep her warm.

Through the bonfire, he was able to see her properly. Her hair was long once more, the dark curls playfully billowing with the wind. Her dress, although torn and dirtied, made her look all the more feminine and Arthur, with a jolt, was surprised with himself that he seemed to have forgotten how she had looked like without the disguise.

Looking at her now, she just became much more beautiful to him.

“Thank you, Arthur,” she then said, a gentle smile on her face. “Although I should be angry with you for not bringing any knights with you.”

“My father wouldn’t allow this,” he reminded her, but strangely, that just made her smile widen.

Arthur was _so_ tempted to kiss her right now, to assure himself that she was okay and very much alive. He remembered the feel of her lips against his and ached for more, but he knew that nothing must ever happen between them. She was a servant and a _sorceress_. If it was physically possible, Uther might behead him twice for harbouring feelings for such a special girl.

“Thank you, Arthur,” she said once again. “You are a… a good friend.”

His heart twisted with pain. A good friend, that was what he would ever be to her. He wanted her so much, he wanted her _everything_ to be his, and he longed for the day when he could stop pretending he hadn’t fallen in love with her at first sight.

“I’m sure that if our roles were reversed, you’d do the same for me."

Instead of answering him with words, Merlin shifted and drew him into an embrace. Arthur sagged against her neck in relief and held her tightly to himself.

She always vowed to him that she would protect him, no matter what. Although it sounded ridiculous to him, especially because he was the  _knight_ , Merlin had proven himself a far better protector than any knights of Camelot.

He brushed his lips against her forehead, a silent compensation because he couldn’t kiss her lips. And in that moment, he vowed to her that he would protect her too, even if it caused his life.

* * *

A soft snort escaped from her mouth and Merlin desperately pressed a hand against her lips. Arthur gave her a very dark glare, and another snort came out.

“Shut up,” Arthur said, but the deed had been done. Loud, boisterous laughter filled Arthur’s bedchambers, and Merlin had to sit on his bed just to steady herself. Her stomach was aching too much, and one look at a disgruntled prince made her laugh all the more.

“I-I can’t believe,” she said, hiding her face behind her hands. “A… a troll! For a step-mother. And to think that Uther had kissed those lips and might have possibly - ”

“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur groaned, comically placing his hands against his ears to drown her words. That just prompted her to laugh more. Tears of mirth already gathered at the corner of her eyes and she daintily brushed them off, the events of last week still vivid in her mind’s eye.

“All right, all right, my father married a disgusting troll, end of story. Now can you please shut up so that I can properly work?” Arthur said, the corners of his mouth twitching. It was horrifying, he must admit, but it was downright hilarious, too.

Merlin shook her head and took a deep breath, standing up from Arthur’s bed to walk closer to his desk. “Haven’t you learned from the past, sire?” she asked, her eyes twinkling beautifully. “I’m always, _always_ right.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Don’t get too cheeky. I can send you to the stocks,” he warned.

But Merlin was far too happy for the, _well_ , unfortunate incident to the King of Camelot. Not even Arthur’s little threats could dampen her mood.

* * *

She was huddled at the corner of her bed, when Gaius came inside, clearly exhausted. Merlin sprang up from her bed and immediately flew into the Court Physician’s arms. Despite his exhaustion, Gaius was still able to hug her tight.

The girl cried earnestly on his shoulder and Gaius merely smiled, patting her back.

“I-I’m so _sorry_ , Gaius,” she sniffled, clutching the back material of the Court Physician’s cloak. “I-I promise not to be reckless anymore.”

“Good,” a voice behind them said. “Because it is rather exhausting helping you keep your secret, you idiot.”

Merlin looked over Gaius head and saw a stern Arthur. The young sorceress guiltily held his gaze, while Gaius slowly extracted himself away from Merlin’s arms. “Excuse me, for now,” he said. “I have a King to berate.” It was scary to see that Gaius was truthful, and Merlin wondered if this was the first time Gaius had ever stood up against the king.

As soon as Gaius was gone, Arthur continued to stare her down. Merlin grew uncomfortable from his gaze and tried her very best not to meet his eyes.

“The Witchfinder is dead,” the prince coolly said. “You have nothing to fear anymore.”

Merlin clenched her hands and stared at him defiantly. “I could have proven he framed Gaius,” she said, haphazardly brushing away her tears.

“With what? Your magic?” Arthur spat, glaring darkly at her. “Next thing you know, it is me who is being sentenced to death by my father, _Mer_ lin.”

She flinched with his words because she knew it was the truth. Her carelessness and stupidity had brought great danger upon those around her, especially to those who desperately tried to hide her secret. All anger and defiance she felt were thrown out of the window and she deflated, unable to retort anything in return.

“I’m sorry."

Opposite her, Arthur expelled a loud sigh and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Please, for the love of Camelot, be careful next time, Merlin,” he said, his voice now considerably softening. “And don’t go blurting out stupid things in front of the King next time,” he continued. “You must learn that neither Gaius nor I would allow you to be put in harm’s way.”

She nodded and wiped her tears away. Arthur, completely deflating, ushered her until he could wrap his arms around her. It was only when Gaius decided to return back when Arthur had finally let her go.

* * *

When she entered his bedchamber, Arthur had his chin buried deeply into his arms, a faraway look on his face. Merlin could feel her heart breaking for the poor prince – within a span of a day, he just saw his deceased mother, who told him the truth. Arthur almost killed his father, but didn’t in the end.

He had a long day, and Merlin wondered if it was best to leave him alone today. She was already preparing to go to bed, when a knight came knocking to her door, telling her that the prince asked for her presence.

So here was she now, looking curiously at the pensive prince. “Y-you called for me, sire?” she softly asked, afraid to break the silence in the room.

Arthur shifted so that his eyes were now directly looking at her. He ushered her closer and she took a few steps forward, at loss of what to do.

“Do you promise to be truthful to me, Merlin?” he asked.

Merlin swallowed, afraid of what he would ask.

“Do you promise me?” Arthur urged on, and Merlin had no choice but to nod. The prince stared at her for a long period of time, before continuing, “What my mother told me before… it was the truth, wasn’t it?”

She was tempted to tell a lie, to assure him that no, his father did not resort to using magic so that he could be conceived, but he made her swear not to lie to him. Blanching, she only managed to nod her head to answer him.

Pained with her answer, Arthur closed his eyes. “Why did you stop me from killing my father?” he asked, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“B-because it will haunt you forever if you did,” Merlin explained. “Despite the truth, you still love your father very much. A-and you have so many things to learn from him, _good_ things. It is too early for him to leave you, Arthur.”

“He killed my mother,” he deadpanned, but Merlin vigorously shook her head.

“Nimueh tricked him,” Merlin said, desperately trying to make him see sense. “She never told him that the price for your life was your mother. And you’ve seen Uther, Arthur. You’ve seen the man he became because of his grief for the death of your mother. If anyone was to blame for your mother’s death, it should be Nimueh.”

Arthur’s eyes shone with tears that refused to fall. The raw emotion on his face tugged the very strings of her heart, and all she wanted to do right now was to bring him into her arms and assure him that everything would be all right.

“If all sorcerer and sorceress are like you, Merlin,” Arthur started, “Camelot will be a wonderful place.”

She smiled at his compliment, unknowing tears also forming at the corner of her eyes. Merlin strode closer and placed a hand against his cheek, now wiping the tears that he was unable to suppress. Arthur shifted so he could press his lips against her hand. Such a tender action made her tremble and the feelings she held for the prince was threatening to burst out from her heart.

“Thank you, Merlin,” he earnestly said, brushing another kiss against her hand. Merlin closed her eyes, desperately wishing it was her lips he was kissing. 

* * *

Gaius told him she lost a friend today and Arthur had this terrible feeling it was his _fault_.

The Bastet, which he managed to wound, was already dead and had stopped wreaking havoc in Camelot, and Arthur knew it, or more appropriately _she,_ was the friend of Merlin that Gaius spoke of.

The Court Physician explained to him that the girl was cursed to be a savage beast at night, unable to control her actions because she had no choice but to kill. Although Gaius profusely assured him that what he did was for the betterment of his kingdom, he felt awful for breaking Merlin’s heart.

He immediately found her in one of the empty rooms in Camelot, polishing _all_ of his boots. Arthur clearly remembered that he never ordered her to do such a thing and figured she was probably doing this just to distract herself from the grief she felt.

Now that he was properly looking at her, he could see that her eyes were a little puffy and red. The dark bags under her eyes were prominent, and she seemed paler than normal. Once again, the gnawing guilt gripped his heart and if he could turn back the time, Arthur would have spared the Bastet's life and Merlin’s smile.

He was torn whether to approach her or not. The latter won and he immediately turned around, but he made so much noise that Merlin immediately saw his presence. She froze upon seeing him and Arthur did not know what to do. He was tempted to run away as far away from her as possible and let her mourn in peace.

To his surprise, Merlin rose from the floor and tentatively approached him. “Is there anything that you need me to do, sire?” she softly asked. He expected a hint of bitterness or even anger, but all he heard was exhaustion in her voice.

“I…” he paused, swallowing. “I heard everything from Gaius.”

Her eyes momentarily widened and she looked away from him.

“M-Merlin,” he started. “Look… I-I didn’t know. I was just… Camelot was at stake… and the Bastet…”

Merlin released a humongous sigh, cutting him off from his nervous tirade. A hint of a smile appeared on her face, dumbfounding him more. “I don’t blame you,” she said, shaking her head. “Don’t stress yourself.”

Arthur’s jaw dropped. “B-but it was I who wounded her, Merlin,” he reasoned out. “How can you not blame me?”

“You were just protecting Camelot,” she tiredly said. “And you said it yourself. You _didn’t_ know. So stop stressing yourself too much and don’t blame yourself, you clotpole.”

But the prince shook his head. “I’ve caused you grief,” he softly whispered. “I blame myself for that.”

She was silent for an eternity, and Arthur wondered if he finally convinced her to blame _him_. It would make him feel a little better, but still so much worse (if that even made sense).

“You’ve set her free from her curse,” she softly said. Arthur’s eyes immediately snapped back at her. She was smiling again, and for a moment, the exhaustion she felt expressed her system. “I’m sure wherever she is right now, she must be happy now, Arthur. For that, _thank you_.”

Arthur took a deep, shaky breath, relieved that she was not mad at all. He stared at her, awed beyond comprehension. How could such a wonderful person be born in this unfair, cruel world?

“Her name,” he sputtered out before he could even stop himself. “What was her name?”

Merlin blinked in surprise, before smiling once again. “Freya,” she said. She bit her bottom lip, thoughtfully nibbling it, before adding, “I told her about you, you know. And I’m sure she isn’t mad at you, too.”

He felt his heart swelling with unknown emotions. “Freya,” he repeated, prompting her to smile wider. _‘Thank you for being a friend to Merlin,’_ he added in his mind.

* * *

Arthur was enchanted, by a _damnable_ love spell, and Merlin was infuriated beyond comprehension. Trickler had the nerve to do such a thing when he was right under her nose and she could do unimaginable things with him with just a snap of her finger. Arthur was enchanted and now he was infatuated with the annoying Lady Vivian. 

 _“Calm yourself, dear girl,”_ Gaius said, amused despite the given circumstance. _“I am sure that you can do something about this err… predicament.”_

She sought help from the Great Dragon, who gave her a solution so baffling she did not know what to do. _“A kiss from his true love, and Arthur would be free,”_ he told her, and Merlin could feel her cheeks reddening with embarrassment. A knowing look appeared in the dragon’s eyes. _“I am sure you have an idea as to who I am talking about.”_

She refused to admit who it was, she refused to _acknowledge_ it was her because she was a mere servant and he was a prince.

Arthur could never love her.

But there were brief, glorious moments when she would wonder, and then would dream, and then she would be reminded of the harsh truth and she wouldn’t wonder and dream anymore. Harboring feelings for the future greatest king was not exactly a wonderful feeling, and Merlin had to struggle, day-in and day-out, to keep her emotions at bay.

Then, Arthur and Vivian were caught by the latter’s father and all hell broke loose. Arthur and King Olaf were to battle until the loser’s death and Merlin could not just accept that. She once hinted to Gwen to try kissing Arthur, to see if the spell would be broken, but the maidservant ogled at her strangely.

 _“It is plain to see whom Arthur has feelings for, Merlin,”_ Gwen said, a knowing glint in her eyes. _“And between you and me, we both know it isn’t me.”_

Merlin still loathed the fact that Gwen finally knew she was actually a girl. Now, the maidservant was starting to become extra observant, especially between the Prince and his manservant.

Today was the tournament, and she had no other choice left. The first round had just ended and Arthur was obviously wounded. King Olaf was a scary man, especially when it came to his daughter, and she feared for the infatuated prince’s life. He wasn’t thinking clearly today and the love spell would instantly kill him.

Purposefully marching towards Arthur’s tent, she ignored Gwen and Gaius’ pointed looks. She would deal with them later but for now, she had a spell to break.

“Ah, Merlin, you’ve come,” Arthur said, a silly smile on his face. His left shoulder was profusely bleeding but he seemed so utterly oblivious of it. “Briefly polish my sword, will you? I want Vivian to know that I’ve prepared so much just to win her heart.”

She saw red when she heard her name. She knew Vivian wasn’t exactly to be blamed for Arthur’s enchantment, but still! The lady was such an annoying little thing.

Merlin marched towards him and grabbed his neck, immediately meeting his lips and kissing him furiously. Arthur, at first, was frozen against her lips, but then, he gradually kissed her back, and even matched her fervor. 

It was her who broke away, and her heart thudded loudly inside her ribcage upon seeing that the spell had been broken.

“What did you do that for?” Arthur asked, the silly smile back on his face. Merlin thought it didn’t look too silly now because it was _directed_ to her.

“For good luck,” she said, her mind already disoriented with the fact that she was _his true love, his true love, his true love_ , and she very much wanted to run away from him to clear her thoughts.

Arthur emerged victorious, but he refused to kill King Olaf to keep the peace between Camelot and his kingdom. Those who were involved in the peace treaty already left and things were back to normal now.

Merlin, though, was in a bundle of nerves, especially around Arthur. She found herself soon in the presence of the Great Dragon once again, who peered at her with curious eyes.

“What distresses you, young sorceress?” he asked.

“I’m Arthur’s true love,” she blurted out, her cheeks coloring with embarrassment and horror and so much more.

The Great Dragon lifted a scaly eyebrow. “I do not understand why you are distressed over the truth, Merlin,” he said, shaking his head. “I do believe that his feelings are not one-sided.”

"That’s the _point_ ,” she implored. “They’re not. Now everything would be so complicated and… and hard because nothing can ever happen between us.”

The dragon looked highly amused and it frustrated her so when he chuckled. “You underestimate what Arthur Pendragon is capable of doing, young sorceress,” he said. “His birth brought about a lot of change in this world. Once he is king, a lot of things would change, too, and equality will begin.”

“E-equality?” she asked, dumbstruck.

“You are very much aware that Arthur is your destiny, Merlin, but you are quite forgetting that you are _his_ destiny, too,” the dragon said. “Do not doubt the power of love. You might be powerful, Merlin, yes, but love is the only thing that can transcend everything, even the power that you possess.”

Merlin’s mouth was ajar and her heart was bursting with so much emotions.

“I do believe I’ve given you enough advice,” he said, chuckling once again. “I cannot believe I am giving love advices to you, young sorceress. But heed by words, and the path towards your future will be clearer to you.”

The dragon then proceeded to open his wings and fly away, leaving Merlin with hope shining brightly in her eyes.

* * *

“Gaius,” she whispered, fearful, “I’ve looked into the crystal.”

The Court Physician’s head snapped up from the book he was reading and he glowered at Merlin. The girl, clearly distressed, shook her head and sighed.

“I-I saw terrible things, Gaius… terrible things and I don’t know what to do,” she said, shaking with unsuppressed fear. She was reminded of the great fire, of the dragon soaring menacingly in the night sky while breathing fire at those below him.

“You mustn’t have,” Gaius reprimanded.

“I’m sorry,” she tearfully said. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Gaius sighed and stood up, approaching the distraught sorceress. He gently patted her back for comfort, and Merlin was overwhelmed by the feelings that were brought by his simple gesture.

“I fear for Camelot,” she continued, tears now silently slipping down from her eyes. “I-I fear for _Arthur_ … and I just… I think it would be my entire fault.”

A soft sob tore away from her mouth and she stifled it with her hand.

“What you saw might just be a possibility of the future,” Gaius consoled her, now drawing soothing circles on her back. “There are futures that can be changed, Merlin. Do not fear, child, because you can still do something about it.”

Merlin desperately clung at Gaius’ words, but she couldn’t shake off the feeling that despite his words, what the crystal showed her would still come true.

* * *

“Morgana’s disappearance,” he drawled, prompting her to cringe. “You have something to do about it, haven’t you?”

Merlin didn’t want to turn around and look at him, because she’d see his big, devastated eyes and his accusatory gaze. The tone of his voice already spoke volumes and she desperately looked around, trying to find an escape route.

She didn’t want this right now, for an enraged Arthur Pendragon demanding some answers, because she would blurt out the truth and he’d be devastated all the more. Morgana was, after all, very close to him and her disappearance had caused such great turmoil in the royal family.

Uther had ordered for Arthur and his knights to scour for Morgana and for the first few weeks, Merlin adamantly refused to come, stating that she wasn’t rather feeling well. It surprised her that Arthur accepted her lame excuse, but the gnawing guilt of being the primary cause for Morgana’s disappearance urged her not to look at Arthur for days.

But weeks had passed and Morgana was still not seen. Merlin had this inkling the King’s ward had no intentions of being found. Uther was getting sick and Arthur was growing insane with worry. It was a wonder as to why it was only today when he finally demanded to get the answers from her.

“Answer me!” he roared and she shook.

Shakily, Merlin rounded about and stared at the hysterical prince. He hadn’t been sleeping well and he seemed sallower than before. She could feel her tears forming at the corner of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Arthur seemed like he was about to break, and between the two, she must stay strong.

“Yes,” she softly whispered, and it shattered her heart when hurt and betrayal flashed in his eyes.

“How could you?” he asked, voice deathly cold. “You knew how my father will feel if Morgana disappeared.”

A tear slipped down from her eyes and she desperately brushed it away. “The threat… her threat to the kingdom,” she continued. “It’s already happening, Arthur, and I was left with _no_ choice.”

He closed his eyes, as if pained, and took a sharp intake of breath. “Morgana was a kind lady,” Arthur lamely defended, but Merlin could hear the hint of hopelessness in his voice. “She wouldn’t dare hurt Camelot.”

“Her hatred for Uther corrupted her heart, Arthur,” she said. “S-she’s a sorceress, remember? And she’d seen how Uther threatened her kind… _our_ kind. And Morgana had enough. That is why she devised a plan with Morgause.”

Arthur’s eyes widened at the mention of the High Priestess’ name. “Morgause?” he claimed, breathlessly.

“The sleeping enchantment,” Merlin whispered. “Morgana was the source of it. That was why she wasn’t affected. I… I poisoned her.” He looked much more astonished, and Merlin desperately took a step forward to let him listen to her. “I had no choice! Camelot would have fallen if she continued to… to live.” She closed her eyes and more tears slipped away. “The dragon said it is best if I eradicate the source. B-but then, Morgause arrived and she exchanged Morgana’s life for Camelot and now… and now she is gone and it’s all my fault and I-I don’t know what to do.”

She hid her face behind her hands in shame and earnestly cried. Morgana was her friend and she thought she would be the only one who could help the poor girl. Morgana was scared and confused and easily manipulated and Merlin _loathed_ Morgause so much for poisoning her friend’s mind. But most of all, she loathed Uther more, because it was his selfish ideology that prompted Morgana to cross to the dark side. Gone was the kind and gentle lady that she knew, the lady who would immediately jump into the defense of Camelot against those who persecute it. Replacing her was a wicked lady, with a heart full of hatred and a desire for vengeance. No matter how much she assured herself that Morgana could still change, Merlin knew it was already too late.

Arthur then was prying her hands away from her face, and she allowed him, too. There was an unreadable expression on his face and for a moment, Merlin thought he would hate her for her act of betrayal. But then, he expelled a soft sigh and his gaze softened. He brought her into his arms and held her tight, and Merlin earnestly cried against his chest.

* * *

“I heard everything from Gaius,” Arthur said, announcing his presence.

Merlin slightly tensed at his arrival, but upon seeing his sheepish face, she relaxed and shook her head.

“Why does Gaius tell you _everything_?” she asked, lightly scowling.

“Because it turns out that his apprentice makes it a point not to tell me everything at all,” he slightly berated, prompting her to smile. All of his cajoling was forgotten as he properly looked at Merlin. There were dark bags under her eyes and her eyes were lightly red. Gaius told him that she had cried nonstop last night. It was a miracle that her tears were dry today. “Are you all right?”

Merlin took a deep breath and gazed out of the window once more. “I will be,” she whispered in reply.

Arthur hesitantly took a few steps forward, still trying to come up with something to do to console her. She just lost a father she never thought she had, and for a short period of time, she thought she would be happy. But then, bandits attacked them and Balinor was dead. Gaius spoke of a Dragonlord who has the power to manipulate dragons. Now that Balinor was dead, his power was passed onto his child, which then, turned out was _Merlin_.

Everyday, he was seeing her in a new light. The helpless, terrified girl he almost killed back in Ealdor was now growing up. More and more responsibilities are thrust into her direction and although she never asked for them, she had no choice but to burden them on her shoulders.

Arthur wished to ease her from such startlingly huge and hard responsibilities. She was still an ordinary girl, and although she had proven herself as someone not fragile, her responsibilities were starting to be _too_ much. Strangely, she still managed to rise above all of these trying times, making him firmly believe that she was the strongest person he had ever met.

He quietly stood beside her chair and chose not to say anything. He couldn’t say sorry, because that wouldn’t do anything anyway. He couldn’t say that everything would be all right, because both of them knew that was a complete lie. He couldn’t say that this would be the last painful thing that would ever happen to her, because she was bound to feel grief once again.

If he was given a choice, he’d choose to burden himself with Merlin’s responsibilities so that she would never cry again. But the fact was, he couldn’t, and all he could really do to her was to love her and stay by her side.

Merlin slowly then lifted her hand and gently clutched his hand. She was trying her best not to cry and Arthur smiled fondly down at her. He tightly squeezed her hand, a silent reassurance that he _wouldn’t_ leave her behind.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Retelling of Season 3 
> 
> Secrets are revealed and confessions are made. 
> 
> Featuring Gwaine and his glorious hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and the reviews! 
> 
> Quick question, though: who do you see as the suitable female version of Merlin? I cannot help but think Felicity Jones will be a wonderful female Merlin!

“You’re not telling me anything,” Arthur accused, crossing his arms as he looked at Gaius and Merlin, both tending to his ill father. The Court Physician and his apprentice shared a look, making the prince think that there really _was_ something they weren’t telling him.

“Sire,” Merlin softly said, turning around to look at him. Her eyes were wide with worry and Arthur stiffened, afraid of what she would say. “I-I think it is best if you retire to your bedchamber for the day.”

But Arthur shook his head; he was determined to discover what it was they were hiding. Desperately, he turned to Gaius and turned pleading. “Gaius,” he softly beseeched. “Tell me.” The old man always had this knack of telling him the whole truth, and he wished that today wouldn’t be any different.

Gaius was about to, but Merlin gave her mentor a pointed look. “I don’t think that will be very wise, Gaius,” she said with a frown. Arthur scowled, annoyed that she was reprimanding the Court Physician.

“My father is delirious and our people think their king is insane,” Arthur spat. “Don’t you think I have every right in the world to know what is happening to my father, _Mer_ lin?”

She flinched at his little tirade and warily looked at him. Pursing her lips, she nodded her head at Gaius, before returning her gaze back at Uther.

“Arthur,” Gaius started, grave and somber, “we believe that your father is being enchanted.”

Nothing changed on his face. Somehow, he already suspected that it was the work of dark magic. “I’m listening,” he said, stoically nodding his head.

“Merlin had seen a mandrake under your father’s bed,” he continued. Upon seeing Arthur’s confused look, Gaius explained, “A mandrake has the ability to addle the mind, conjuring images and hallucinations that can drive one person insane. The mandrake had done its deed and is now playing tricks to your father’s mind.”

Arthur trembled with anger and he curled his hands into fists. “Who did this?” he said, his voice cold and biting. He suspected someone, but hoped against hope it wasn’t _her_. Not when Uther took her in and clothed her and _loved_ her, even more than he loved his own son. One look at Merlin’s face shattered whatever remaining hope he had and he painfully closed his eyes.

“What should I do?” he whispered, too distressed to even think properly. He swayed towards a nearest chair, his legs finally giving in from all the betrayal and the hurt and the exhaustion that he had felt. “What should I do?”

A warm hand was gingerly placed on his shoulder and he looked up. Merlin was worriedly peering down at him and he felt a small lump forming inside his throat. She always had this ability to make him feel _so_ many things. With just one simple look, Arthur felt like he could cry earnestly right in front of her and she wouldn’t even judge him at all.

“We’ve removed the mandrake already,” Merlin whispered, her hand climbing up to his hair and tenderly ran her hand through it. Already, Arthur could feel himself calming down. “But, we suspect that Morgana would soon know that she’s been caught. I… I…” Merlin cleared her throat and nervously looked at Gaius. She turned her gaze back at Arthur and a determined glint appeared in her eyes. “I-I’ll think of a plan, Arthur, I _promise_.”

The calm that she brought upon him was instantly shoved away, replaced by unadulterated fear. “What are you planning to do?” he hissed, narrowing his eyes warily. If she was going to sacrifice her life again for him, for his _father_  blast it all, then heaven help him, but he’d do anything just to stop her.

“I’ll be safe,” she assured him, avoiding his question. “Don’t worry too much.”

“What are you planning to do?” Arthur exclaimed, hysterical, as he shot up from his seat and tightly held both of Merlin’s arms.

“Sire…” Gaius started, but Merlin shook his head at him.

The young sorceress took a deep breath and gently smiled at the distressed prince. “Your kingdom needs you right now,” she said. “While your father is sick, they need a temporary leader. They’re looking up to you. Just do your responsibility and I’d do my own.”

Arthur shook and sagged against her in defeat, because he knew no amount of berating could stop her from doing what she planned to do. Between his kingdom and Merlin, it frightened him that the latter mattered the most, and he’d climb the highest mountain and cross the deepest seas just to follow her. But looking at her eyes, he knew she wouldn’t allow that, that she’d _castrate_ him if he ever thought of doing that. Thus, he slowly released her arms and pulled away.

“If you do not come back in three nights,” he softly warned, “I will _kill_ Morgana, and I will scour the whole Five Kingdoms just to find you.”

* * *

Merlin lightly scowled as she watched Morgana being honoured by Uther for ‘destroying’ the staff that summoned the dead. A few days ago, Cenred’s knights attacked (that bastard king) and the Knights of Camelot almost had it under control if it weren’t for the sudden animation of the dead. Merlin, having followed Morgana when she disappeared, saw her act of necromancy. She had a small battle with Morgana, and was about to destroy the staff. But then, blasted Arthur had to come and Morgana, thinking that she still had Arthur’s trust, pretended to destroy the staff and claimed all the glory that Merlin should rightfully have.

The young sorceress cringed, still remembering how she was poisoned by the Serkets. How Morgana discovered she was being followed by her, she didn’t really know. But thank the heaven’s above she was a Dragonlord… well, _Dragonlady_ , and she has a dragon friend. Merlin didn’t want to think what would happen to Camelot if she didn’t arrive on time.

The ceremony just finished and Merlin was relieved. Honestly, she thought it was a waste of time. She briefly caught Morgana’s glare, which she gladly returned. Starting from today, she’d keep a keen eye on her.

Merlin was just about to return to Gaius’ bedchambers, when Arthur suddenly appeared and dragged her towards his own bedchamber. Merlin scowled, annoyed that he sought for her when she tried her very best to avoid him ever since she came back. She knew Arthur would ask her questions, and Merlin was just _too_ tired.

Arthur locked his door and turned to Merlin, crossing his arms expectantly. “Well?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

The young sorceress wearily sat down on one of his chairs and looked at him. “What do you want to know?” she asked.

“Maybe what you’re _brilliant_ plan was and why you suddenly disappeared for two days,” Arthur snarled. “ _Two_ days, Merlin, and you should thank the gods above you’ve just arrived on time. My vow still holds true.”

Merlin flinched. Morgana was starting to turn evil, yes, but it was scary to think that Arthur seemed so willing to kill her immediately.

“I… planned to follow Morgana,” she lamely started, running a tired hand through her face. “And she met up with Morgause. Our suspicions were right and I was about to go back, really but…” She sheepishly looked at Arthur’s enraged face. “Morgana kind of caught me and well, she was with the High Priestess of the Old Religion, and Morgause summoned some Serkets” – Arthur’s eyes widened in shock – “and I was unable to properly defend myself. But, Kilgharrah, the dragon, helped me and healed me, so I was able to immediately come back.”

By the time she was finish recounting her plan and small adventure, Arthur was still staring her down. Merlin squirmed under his intense gaze and deeply frowned. “What?” she shot back, annoyed that he wasn’t saying anything.

“You could have told me so that I could have ordered some of my knights to accompany you,” he snarled, but Merlin rolled her eyes.

“We’re talking about sorceresses here, Arthur,” she replied. “Despite their strength, your knights will be immediately dead once faced with Morgause. She’s… she’s _powerful_. Even I had some difficulty fighting her.”

To her utmost surprise, Arthur banged his fist against the door. It shook so violently and Merlin feared it might get unhinged. But it didn’t and Arthur was angrier.

“Why does it always, _always_ have to be you?” he rasped out, sheer fear now clearly etched on his face.

“It is my destiny,” she calmly replied back.

“Then tell your dragon friend to choose another… another protector!” Arthur roared. “You… you’ve been poisoned and beaten and threatened and… and _so_ much more.”

Merlin took a deep breath and shook her head. “It is our very earth who decided to choose me,” she said. “Kilgharrah has nothing to do with the prophecy.” She licked her lips and sadly looked at Arthur. “It is my destiny and neither you nor I can do anything about it.”

* * *

Arthur shot a quick glare at his manservant’s direction when he heard a soft snort. Merlin caught his eyes and she shook once more, this time chuckles now escaping from her mouth.

“Oh, come now,” she said, her eyes glinting in amusement. “It wasn’t _that_ bad.” And the idiot had the audacity to laugh loudly this time.

Arthur’s cheeks colored in embarrassment as he remembered this unfortunate incident in his life. And to think that Merlin had to see him in one of his most hilarious and embarrassing moments in his life! She’d mercilessly tease him. He could already foresee those days when she would bray just to rile him up.

“And whose fault is it?” Arthur snarled, having heard the whole story from an equally embarrassed Gaius.

Merlin’s cheeks warmed and she sheepishly smiled. “I didn’t know there was a goblin in the library, I swear,” she said, raising her arms in defense. Arthur scowled and tightly crossed his arms against his chest. “I’ve returned it to where it rightfully belonged, anyway, before it could cause more damage.”

“Oh, he’d caused enough damage, all right,” Arthur said, his scowl darkening.

His manservant chuckled and sauntered closer to him. Playfully teasing, she leant down _so_ close that Arthur’s breath hitched. “Don’t worry, Arthur,” she said, fondly tapping his warm cheek. “You actually make an adorable donkey.”

His cheeks reddened more and Merlin’s laugh grew louder. Even before Arthur could throw something at her, Merlin already left his bedchamber.

* * *

“Thank you for saving Arthur’s life,” Merlin earnestly said as she accompanied Gwaine up to the border of Camelot. Gwaine, devastatingly handsome and unbelievably snarky, gave her a small wink.

“Perhaps,” he started, “you are right.” He hitched the strap of his bag higher in his shoulders and brightly smiled. “Perhaps, your prince is worth saving after all.”

Merlin’s cheeks brightened in pride for Arthur, knowing that he’d earned the respect and trust from a man who used to despise nobility. Gwaine gave her cheeks a pointed glance and Merlin looked away, trying to expel the redness away. For the past few days that Gwaine resided in Gaius’ bedchambers, he constantly gave her strange looks as if he _knew_ something. Thankfully, he never voiced anything out loud.

Except, to her dismay, today.

“Why do you disguise yourself as a boy?” he asked, looking at her in amusement. “I can detect that underneath that petty disguise is a pretty lass, you know.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Merlin sputtered, horrified to see that she couldn’t mask the emotions that she was feeling for Gwaine’s discovery.

He snorted and shook his head. “Oh, please,” Gwaine said, laughing when Merlin flinched. “I’ve seen the way Arthur Pendragon looks at you, Merlin. Unless, of course, you think I am absolutely wrong and the Prince's sword actually swings the other way… If he does, he could have given me a few winks or something. After all, who could ever resist devilishly handsome Gwaine?”

His insinuation was laughable, but Merlin was too embarrassed to even release a soft chuckle.

“Don’t worry, pretty lass,” Gwaine said, fondly tapping her forehead. “I do not plan to gallivant around and proclaim that Prince Arthur’s manservant is a girl, whom he quite possibly be in love with.”

Merlin’s eyes widened. “H-he isn’t in love with me!” she sputtered out, disbelieving. But then, of course, she remembered the love potion fiasco with Lady Vivian and the small, insignificant fact that she was Arthur’s one, true love.

“Oh, right, keep telling that to yourself,” Gwaine said, flashing his blinding smile. “A word of warning to him, though; if he didn’t guard you properly in the future, I might sneak into Camelot once again and sweep you off your feet myself.” To complete his flirting, he gave her a wink, prompting her cheeks to redden more.

A soft groan escaped from her mouth, prompting him to chuckle. “This conversation is embarrassing,” she murmured.

Gwaine grinned so brightly and gave her a one-armed hug. “It is nice to meet you, Merlin,” he said. “I hope someday we can meet again, pretty lass.”

He then was gone and Merlin sadly watched him go. Gwaine, though, glanced back to the castle, a look of wonder filling his eyes, and Merlin knew that someday, he would be back.

* * *

“I don’t really wish to speak to your right now,” Merlin softly said, not lifting her head from her arms. “ _Please_ , Arthur. I am tired.”

The Prince pursed his lips. Merlin should have known better; despite years of being her master, she should remember that Arthur never listens to her. 

“What happened?” Arthur said, strolling forward and lightly touching the top of her head. Gaius told him of Morgana’s attempt to murder Uther and Merlin was there to thankfully stop her. Although he knew that Gaius was telling the truth, he knew that there was something more that Merlin wasn’t telling him.

Merlin took a deep breath and peeked above her arms. The corner of her right eye was slightly wrinkled, a sign that she was weakly smiling. “Must you really be persistent, sire?” she asked, slowly lifting her head from her arms. Arthur then clearly saw her face; she looked terrible and tired. Arthur felt his mouth drying in alarm.

“Morgana…” she started, swallowing. She shifted her gaze away from him. “Uther still doesn’t suspect anything about her, does he?”

Regretfully, Arthur shook his head. “My father is blinded by his love for Mogana,” he said. “I’m sure that if we go around accusing of Morgana’s treason, we’d all be burned in the pyre.”

Fear appeared in her eyes, confusing him. “I’m afraid of Morgana, Arthur,” she confessed in shame. “She scares me.”

Arthur’s eyes widened. Merlin had always been the strongest person he’d ever met. She’d battled against magical beasts and wild animals, but for her to actually voice out that she was afraid was alarming. If she declares she was afraid of Morgana, then Arthur had been underestimating Morgana’s newfound powers.

“Back in the Valley of the Fallen Kings,” she started, her eyes shining with suppressed tears. “I stumbled upon a cave while you were unconscious. A druid called it the Crystal Cave and it was… it was where magic was born.”

She wearily rubbed her eye and continued, “Inside contained numerous crystals, the same kind of crystal we’ve rescued years before. And there were visions, terrifying one’s, Arthur. I-I… didn’t know what to do.”

A small tear slipped down from her eye and she took a deep breath, horror still etched on her face. “I saw what Morgana will do in the future,” she said, daintily sniffing. “And I tried my best to stop her, but all the preventions I made only made it happen all the more.”

Arthur sighed. “You tried your best,” he said, fondly patting her head. She shook her head, though, and continued.

“Morgana is keen in killing Uther and claiming the throne,” she continued. “G-Gaius warned me to protect you more, Arthur, because once Uther’s dead, it is only you that stand between her and the crown.”

She lifted a hand and tightly clutched his hand. She leaned her forehead against his palm and took a deep breath. “I’m afraid of what Morgana is capable of doing to you, Arthur,” she mournfully whispered, her clutch on his hand tightening. “H-her magic is unpredictable. I don’t have any idea how to properly fight her.”

“I will watch her every move in the future,” he said. “I promise to be careful.”

She smiled at him, despite how empty his promise was. Both silently knew of what threat Morgana poses to him and his future kingdom, but Arthur could see that she was happy he was trying to keep her mind at ease, even if it was poor excuse of one.

“Then, I promise to forever stay by your side,” she said, prompting him to smile.

* * *

Merlin was startled when Arthur surprisingly entered her bedchambers. Her cheeks reddened, warily gazing at the mess she made in her small room. She was busy doing her chores for others that she really didn’t have any time to do hers.

It was already night time and Merlin was readying herself for bed. In fact, she was already wearing her nightclothes and discreetly, she grabbed her small blanket from her bed and clutched it tightly in front of her. Despite the disguise charm, it still made her feel uncomfortable to be wearing her nightclothes with the prince standing opposite her.

“Is there something you need, sire?” she asked, looking at him with wide eyes. There was something indecipherable about his expression, but Merlin didn’t dwell on his look too much. She just wanted to sleep and wish that tomorrow would pass into a blur. Even though she very much wish not to attend to the wedding of the Prince of Camelot and Princess Elena tomorrow, she had no choice since she was the prince’s manservant. Hence, she needed to have all the energy she could muster to withstand a broken heart.

“Do you want me to marry her tomorrow, Merlin?” he suddenly asked, knocking off some breath from his manservant. Her eyes widened at his question and she staggered back.

“I… err… w-what?” she asked, swallowing nervously.

Arthur’s eyes hardened. “Do you want me to marry Elena tomorrow, Merlin?” he repeated, his voice now stern.

She looked away from him, her cheeks coloring. “I-I don’t think I’m in the right position to answer that question, sire,” she said. ‘ _No, no, no, I don’t want you to marry her. No, no, no, no.’_

It would have been easier if Elena just continued being possessed by that blasted pixie. Now that she was free from being a changeling, she was actually a beautiful, kind lady, one that absolutely suited as the rightful wife of the future King of Camelot. Merlin was no match to her. 

Her mind was brought back to the present when Arthur was suddenly right in front of her, his hand tightly clutching her arm. Merlin had no choice but to look back at his eyes, and she could see the conflict playing on his handsome face.

“I do very much think you are in the right position to answer that question,” he calmly said, although there was an underlying sternness in the tone of his voice. “Thus, I ask you once again, do you want me to marry Elena, Merlin?”

Tears pricked her eyes and she swallowed. “I-If it is for the betterment of Camelot, then you really should, A-Arthur,” she stuttered. She wished he would just leave her alone so that she could properly nurse her broken heart, this prat. 

“Blast Camelot,” he hissed, lightly shaking her in desperation. His eyes turned beseeching and Merlin didn’t know what to do. “I want your answer, Merlin.”

“I-I think,” she started, hating herself for the next words that she would say, “that marrying for convenience is a h-horrible, horrible thing.” She whispered, sniffing as a few tears escaped her eyes. “I-I think, people should choose to marry for love, even the royals. A-an unhappy king is an unhappy kingdom, sire. I hope y-you understand that.”

Arthur stared at her for a while, before a small smile appeared on his face. “Do you want me to marry her tomorrow, Merlin?” he asked, this time gentler and fond.

Merlin closed her eyes in defeat, knowing it was futile to either lie or be vague. “No,” she simply said. “No, Arthur.”

The next day, Arthur and Elena weren’t married at all.

* * *

“We must save Gwen’s brother,” Merlin harshly said, barging into his room, unannounced.

Arthur sighed and turned around. She was dishevelled and determined, wild and stubborn. Her eyes were shining brightly and Arthur knew that his resolve broke. He honestly thought that it was unfair that one simple look from her could turn his world upside down.

“My father wouldn’t allow it,” he reminded, slowly shaking his head. He lacked the usual stubborn tone, though, and Merlin heard it.

“Guinevere is my friend,” she quietly said. “And I very much want to help her.”

She didn’t need to ask, that idiot. Of course Arthur would help Gwen’s brother, especially because she was a dear friend to his manservant.

Hence she and Arthur, together with Gwen and surprisingly _Morgana_ all went to a journey to the Castle of Fyrien. Arthur wondered as to why the King’s ward accompanied them, and he somehow suspected it was to keep appearances. Pursing his lips, he glared at the back of Morgana's head – Gwen would be crushed if she discovered that her mistress was actually a conniving bi – _witch_.

They were then caught by Cenred’s knights, despite taking a secluded path and Arthur couldn’t help but to roll his eyes because, _of course_ , Morgana was with them.

Elyan, who was Gwen’s brother, turned out to be well, and they all devised a plan to escape. Morgana was somewhere in the castle, feigning to be kidnapped. Gwen insisted that they shouldn’t leave without Morgana. Arthur very much thought it would be for the betterment of everybody if they leave Morgana behind. But then, one pointed look from Merlin made Arthur do stupid things once again until they finally ‘rescued’ Morgana and returned to Camelot.

Gwen’s brother made his farewells, and all was well in Camelot again.

One day, Guinevere came to his bedchambers, and Arthur was pleasantly surprised. He at first thought she was in his room for Merlin, but seeing that his manservant was currently away, the Prince was baffled.

“I wanted to thank you for saving my brother,” she said, deeply bowing down. “He owes you his life, sire, and he promises to aid you in the future once you seek it.”

Arthur smiled and nodded. “You’re welcome, Guinevere,” he said. “But you do not need to thank me. You are my servant, and I’ll help you whenever you need it.”

He thought that she would accept his words, to thank him nonetheless and leave him, but Guinevere, who usually was silent, shook her head and chuckled. “Don’t be ridiculous, sire,” she said, much to his surprise. “You didn’t do it for me. You did it for _Merlin_.”

He could feel his cheeks warming at her words and Arthur couldn’t suppress the sheepish smile that bloomed on his face.

“One day, sire, you will be a great king,” Gwen continued, the smile never leaving her face. “And one day, sire, you will have your great queen, too.” She then bowed down and left, leaving an amused Arthur in her wake.

A few second after Gwen left, Merlin came inside, looking over her shoulders in confusion. “Did Gwen just come here a while ago?” she asked, turning around to look at Arthur. She lifted an eyebrow at his odd expression. “What did she say?” she asked, strolling inside to start doing her chores.

“Oh, the usual thank you,” Arthur flippantly said, returning back to his work. _‘And the fact that she thought you’d be a great queen, Merlin.’_ “So, nothing much.”

* * *

“Merlin!” Arthur gasped, once he regained consciousness.

Merlin released a huge, shaky sigh, pocketing the accursed bracelet away. “Oh, thank the gods, I’m not too late,” she said, sagging against his shoulder.

Confused, Arthur pulled her away from him and glared. “What are you doing here?” he admonished, his glare darkening. “This is my quest. I do not need your help.”

“I’m magic,” she whispered matter-of-factly for only him to hear, “And I brought strength with me." Merlin added the last bit louder as she pointed her finger at the doorframe. Arthur saw a smirking Gwaine, his sword carelessly resting on top of his shoulder.

“She insisted for my help,” he said, sending him a wink. “I cannot resist a maiden's call for help now, can I?”

Arthur rounded at her, surprised. She grew sheepish and chuckled. “Um… he kind of guessed that I am in a disguise,” she said, shrugging flippantly. “I didn’t tell him, I swear.”

Before Arthur could snap at her, Gwaine cleared his throat. “Now that you’re little reunion is finished, can we finish your task now, Prince Arthur?” he asked, brushing off some lint from his clothes. He pointed outside, where the wyverns were still circling above. “Dragon-like monsters are waiting to eat us.”

Thus, they scrambled about, in search of the Fisher King’s trident. Along the way, however, Merlin was separated from them.

“Merlin!” Arthur explained, pounding loudly against the stone wall. His sword clanged again and again against the wall that separated him and Gwaine from Merlin, but nothing happened. “There must be something that would trigger for this thing to open.”

He felt for anything, a button or a hole, until an uneven brick caught his attention. Immediately, he removed it, only to see it crawling with insects and other disgusting things he wished not to discover. Beside him, Gwaine amusedly chuckled and Arthur glared at him, silently reprimanding him that it was not time for his laughter.

Before Arthur could even insert his hand inside the insect-infested hole, Gwaine talked.

“Anything for her, eh?” he asked, prompting Arthur to freeze.

His cheeks colored and he briefly glanced back at Gwaine. There was a knowing glint in the young man’s face and Arthur sighed, returning his gaze back at the hole and finally inserting his hand in it.

“Anything for her,” he firmly stated.

The door suddenly opened and they stumbled inside. Merlin was on her knees, staring strangely at the Fisher King, and Arthur caught sight his trident. He decided that the trident could wait and scrambled towards the quiet manservant.

“Are you all right?” he worriedly asked, helping her stand.

Merlin shakily nodded before pointing behind him. “The trident is there, Arthur,” she said. “It is your prize to claim.”

He completely released her and turned around. The sight of the Fisher King unsettled him and briefly wondered if he really was alive like what the legends say. Nonetheless, he strode forward and clutched the trident, pride flitting inside his chest because he knew he had proven himself well to his kingdom, even if he had some help. 

* * *

“Gaius had set her free,” Merlin blurted out, unable to keep it to herself. It surprised her immensely when Arthur coolly stared back at her.

“Well, he could have hinted it one way or another, I’m not really sure,” he said, slightly smirking when Merlin shook in fury.

She scoffed and crossed her arms, glaring lightly at her master. “And none of you conveniently told me?” she asked.

“It was Gaius’ decision, not mine,” Arthur said, raising his arms in defense. “No need to get all huffy at me, you idiot. I’m still your Prince.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for blowing up to you, your royal _pratness_ ,” she snarled, striding closer to his desk. She glared at the amused smile that bloomed on his face. “What I don’t understand was why Gaius did not escape with her.” Merlin expelled a soft sigh, her anger now completely forgotten. “It was plain to see that they love each other. Gaius would have been happy with her.”

Arthur nodded to concur. “Yes, but who then would look after you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her direction.

Merlin huffed indignantly. “I can take care of myself, thank you very much,” she haughtily said, lifting her chin in defiance. “I do not need any protection.”

“Hmm… if you say so,” Arthur said, clearly not convinced.

“I want Gaius to be happy,” Merlin interjected. “And I can see that Alice can give that to him. Really, he should think about himself more.”

“Gaius is an old man now, Merlin,” Arthur replied. “And I think he’d done quite a lot of selfish things in his life before. But then, you came into his life and you somehow became like a daughter to him. I'm not quite sure, but I honestly think that Gaius is happy in taking care of you.”

Merlin’s cheeks colored prettily as she released a soft sigh. “Gaius does a lot of things to me,” she softly replied. “Things that sometimes I do not deserve.”

“That is why you have to stay nice and obedient, all right?” Arthur shot back, giving her a smile when she glared. “No more following destinies and saving princes, all right? You better not give Gaius a heart attack.” 

“Nice try,” she said, immaturely sticking out her tongue.

Arthur chuckled and shook his head. “I thought so, too,” he said, waving his hand. “Now off you go and polish my armour. I have some work to do.”

* * *

Just a picnic, he said, but Merlin had numerous doubts. Especially because he clearly emphasized for her to arrive without her disguise. She chose not to ask questions in the end; Arthur looked too much frazzled to be interrogated and well, she was _flustered_ too.

Sharing this secret with Gwen was the worst part because her friend kept on shooting her knowing looks. But Gwen, being Gwen, she relented and lent her one of her pretty dresses. She even volunteered to fix Merlin’s hair.

Soon, she was ready, and Merlin couldn’t even recognize herself anymore. Once upon a time, she was girl who absolutely adored wearing dresses and prancing about, but the prat came and she quickly learned to adapt with the fact that she was disguising herself as a boy to continue serving in the castle.

It refreshed her, to be who she truly was once again, and wondered as to why Arthur asked her to remove her disguise today, of all days.

 _"I don't know Gwen..."_ she said, tugging at her curls decorated with white daisies. 

 _“You look beautiful,”_ Gwen said with awe, staring at her with obvious delight. It had been a while ever since she heard anyone call her beautiful. Well, there was her mother… and then _Will_. She had no absolutely idea what to answer and Gwen merely chuckled at her flustered state. It didn’t help that when Arthur came to fetch her from Gwen’s house, he stared at her for a full minute. No usual insults or at least compliments left his mouth. He just _stared_ , for goodness’ sake!

But then, something shifted in his eyes and Arthur was smiling too brightly, Merlin wondered if she was merely in a dream and nothing more. Gwen bid them a happy goodbye and Arthur then brought her in a more secluded part of the forest. True to his word, there was a picnic lain on the ground.

The day went away in a blissful blur. Merlin couldn’t remember the last time she actually felt _this_ happy. For today, Arthur also made it a point that she wasn’t his manservant but Merlin.

Just Merlin.

But then, the sudden sound of hooves roused them from their happy stupor. Uther’s unmistakable shout for his son’s name echoed all throughout the forest and Arthur scrambled up, cursing in the process. Merlin was too stunned to move, and Arthur, fearing for the worse, helped her up.

 _“Go!”_ he exclaimed, and something inside her snapped and she ran back to Guinevere’s house as fast as possible.

When she entered with a bang, Gwen squealed in surprise. Upon seeing her state, the young maidservant quickly went to her aid and helped her out of the dress. If Uther discovered that Merlin was a girl, then all hell would break loose.

That night, with a secret smile on her face, Merlin went to Arthur’s bedchambers to serve him his dinner. She thought everything would be all right, that the little picnic they shared in forest would remain their wonderful secret, but when Arthur’s worried face greeted her, she knew something was wrong.

“Father suspects something,” he worriedly whispered. “Be careful.”

And she nodded, because she was afraid for herself, for _Arthur_ , and if anything happened, she had no idea what to do.

The next day, Guinevere was accused of bewitching the Prince and was sentenced to death. Merlin was so horrified with the news and when she stumbled into Arthur’s room, uncontrollable tears fell from her eyes and no amount of comfort from Arthur could calm her down.

Apparently, Uther and his knights caught sight of her familiar, curly hair. They mistook it as Gwen’s, and she was interrogated. And Gwen, _oh_ Gwen, who did nothing to her but be friendly and kind, took the blame.

“I don’t understand how my father found us,” Arthur grumbled, restlessly pacing as soon as Merlin calmed down. “Nobody was supposed to discover that place.”

Merlin visited Gwen that night, and she couldn’t suppress her tears once again upon seeing the frightened look on her friend’s face.

“W-why did you do it?” she merely asked, falling on her knees in front of Gwen’s prison cell. “Y-you could have told them it was me.”

But Gwen, _oh_ Gwen, sadly smiled and reached out for Merlin’s face to wipe away her tears.

Merlin was determined to prove Gwen’s innocence, and devised a plan with Gaius. She meant to tell it to Arthur, too, but Uther now was keeping an eye on his son. After all, he still believed that Arthur was bewitched by the falsely accused Guinevere.

She meant to reveal herself, really, but Gaius warned her he and Arthur would do unimaginable things once more to _protect_ her. Hence, she thought of an idea, which Gaius thought was actually a good one. He brewed the potion that would be needed, and she restlessly waited by his side, hoping against hope that tomorrow, she would be able to save her friend.

The next day, before Gwen was to be thrown to the pyre, Merlin, now disguised as an old sorceress, burst inside the room. Disguising as an old woman by magic meant she actually felt like one, and combined with the burning dislike she had towards Uther Pendragon, she became the snarky, rude sorceress.

“I am the one who bewitched Arthur Pendragon,” she declared, pointing a defiant finger at the dumbfounded Prince. “That poor girl has nothing to do about it. Release her, or regret it.”

To her utmost relief, they bought her lie, and Gwen was released. She was imprisoned, though, which she expected.

That night, she heard footsteps, and she wondered if it was Gaius. The potion he had brewed was safely hidden inside her pocket, and she had the key, too. She just needed to wait for the incompetent prison knights to fall asleep or distract themselves with petty games.

“You idiot,” Arthur’s familiar drawl reached her ears. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve placed yourself in?”

She wasn’t able to answer him for minutes because she was too surprised to see his face. “Arthur,” she rasped out, her voice hoarse due to age. “W-what are you - ”

“Before you could even deny everything, save your breath,” he hissed. “Gaius told me, and _oh_ , Merlin, you really are asking to be thrown to the stocks.”

“I have a plan,” she calmly said, clutching the potion to comfort herself. “Don’t stress yourself.”

Arthur released an odd sound at the back of his throat and loudly banged his forehead against her prison bars. She was startled by his action and stared back at him, wide-eyed. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he growled, glaring darkly down at her. “ _Idiot_ ,” he added as an afterthought, before swivelling around and leaving the dungeons.

Hours after his departure, Merlin struggled to keep awake. Once she heard the familiar snores of the guards, she quickly freed herself from her prison cell and fled. It took around five minutes after her escape for the bells the be rang, and Merlin couldn’t help the adrenaline-induced grin from blossoming on her face. She released a few spells hither thither just for the fun of it, before deciding she had had enough and hid inside an alcove. She drank Gaius’ potion and instantly returned back to her original form. Removing the cloak of the old sorceress, she left it aside and walked casually back to Gaius’ bedchambers as if nothing out of the ordinary happened.

Uther was furious with her escape, but knew he couldn’t do anything about it. He once again strictly reminded his court of their constant battle against sorcerers and sorceresses and it was best for all of them to stay alert.

Things slowly returned back to their normal state and Merlin swore she would never, _ever_ dress as a girl once again except if the situation required it. Even Arthur concurred with her plan, having an inkling that his father wouldn’t hesitate to immediately sentence her to death if he discovered his manservant was a girl.

“I do believe you acted really well as an old woman, Merlin,” he teased one, lazy night, his head resting heavily against his headrest.

He smirked when she scowled at his direction. “One day, Arthur Pendragon,” she hissed. “One day you’d realize how awful it is to have rickety bones.”

Arthur chuckled and flippantly waved his hand. “She said one truthful thing, though,” he said, straightening his back. When her questioning gaze landed on his form, he smiled. “You did bewitch me.” She was about to protest, to interject that _of course_ she did not, but she must have seen something in his eyes for she faltered and colored and sputtered and stumbled. “With a different kind of magic, of course.”

* * *

“It would have been easier if you let the sorcerer win.”

Merlin looked up from the book she was reading and raised an eyebrow at the troubled Prince. She quickly cast a look at Gaius, who sighed and eased himself from his bench. He muttered an excuse none of them really bothered to understand, before leaving the two alone.

“But I didn’t, end of story,” Merlin said with a sigh.

Arthur ran a frustrated hand through his hair and walked closer to his manservant. “Why do you always do it?” he asked, uncertainly stopping a few meters away from her.

She lifted an eyebrow at him questioningly. “Do what?” she asked.

“Save my father,” he said. He pursed his lips and crossed his arms, sternly waiting for her answer.

“We’ve talked about this, Arthur,” she said, shaking her head. “Honestly, it’s tiring to repeat myself.”

Arthur released a monumental sigh and slowly removed the book she was clutching. She glared at him, trying to make a grab for it, but Arthur quickly hid it behind his back. “I saw how you desperately wanted to help Gilli instead,” he pointed out matter-of-factly, and she was too tired to deny it. “It would have been easier if you let the sorcerer win.”

“He was determined to kill Uther,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t want him to ruin his life because of it. Besides…” She looked away from him, her cheeks coloring with embarrassment. “Well… I-I just thought that if your father died in the hands of a sorcerer, your view of magic will… err _change_.”

He raised an eyebrow, surprised to hear those words from her mouth. “Good point,” he said, nodding his head. Silently, however, he knew no matter what evilness other sorcerers bring to his kingdom, Merlin would always be startlingly good and wonderful in his eyes. 

“Thanks, now can I have the book now?” she asked. “I was already in the good part.”

“I’m sure your book can wait,” he said. “My armour is _dying_ to be polished.”

Merlin glared. “Prat,” she said.

“I know.”

* * *

“Leave him, Merlin,” Gaius softly advised. “He needs some time alone.”

She looked at the despondent lump at the farthest corner in the cave and she just _couldn’t_ leave him alone. Apologetically looking at the Court Physician, she shook her head and gently pulled away from his grasp. Gaius, knowing that no words could stop her, wordlessly looked at her until she reached Arthur’s side.

A few weeks ago, Morgana finally showed her true colors. With the help of Morgause, Cenred, and his immortal knights, they infiltrated the castle and currently, Morgana was crowned as the Queen of Camelot. Uther, shell-shocked from Morgana’s betrayal, was a current captive of the queen, and Arthur was helpless to do anything about it.

“Arthur?” she asked, crouching down in front of the prince and worriedly peering at him. His face was hidden by his arms, and Merlin feared he wasn’t feeling well. “Arthur,” she said once again, this time reaching a hand and placing it carefully on top of his shoulder. That was when she noticed he was trembling and Merlin bit her bottom lip.

“My father lied to me,” he softly murmured, and Merlin could feel the tears forming at the corner of her eyes. “After all these years, his words…” He tensed and took a sharp intake of breath. “He betrayed my mother, Merlin. He _betrayed_ me and… and…”

“Shh…” Merlin soothingly said, her hand now travelling at his back to slowly rub it in comfort.

Arthur slowly lifted his head and there were tears in his eyes, but they didn’t fall. “Why do they all betray me?” he asked. In that moment, he looked so small and vulnerable and just so, _so_ lonely that Merlin wanted to bring him to her arms and ease his pain away.

“You still have a duty to your kingdom, to your _father_ , Arthur,” she whispered. “You still have a throne to reclaim.”

He harshly looked away and glared at the walls. “I don’t think we’d win this time,” he spat angrily. “You’ve seen Morgana’s allies, Merlin. They are far too powerful for us.”

Merlin scowled and tightly grasped his shoulder. “This isn’t you!” she hissed, slightly shaking him in annoyance. “You must stay strong, Arthur. A lot of people are hoping for you to come back. 

He seemed to snap out of his stupor for he widely blinked his glossy eyes. He shakily took a deep breath and slowly relaxed, heavily leaning against the wall of the cave to keep himself upright. “What am I supposed to do?” he asked, more to himself.

“We’ll think about a plan,” Merlin quickly said, relieved that he was somehow back to his normal self. “I’m sure we can think about something.” 

"What if I... what if I can't win?" 

Merlin adamantly shook her head. "You are Arthur Pendragon," she proclaimed steadfastly. "You always win." 

Despite his despondence, his lips lifted into a small smile. "Your faith in me is frightening, Merlin." 

"Well, somebody has to constantly remind you," she lightly berated while his eyes turned fond. "I think I am that somebody by default, really." 

He reached out for her hand and gave it a squeeze. At the same time, butterflies fluttered wildly inside her stomach and Merlin could not help but blush. "Thank you," he said, eyes shining brightly with emotions she hoped were true. 

She smiled and quickly glanced at the mouth of the cave. She saw Gwaine patrolling, a determined look on his face she had never seen before on the usually carefree man. “There are people who are willing to help you, Arthur, so you mustn’t lose hope, all right?”

Arthur nodded his head and Merlin thought that perhaps, they could still win this war.

* * *

“Merlin.”

She paused in her steps and peeked from the mound of bandages towering on top of her hands. A lot of people were still injured in the temporary infirmary in the castle and they honestly needed to be tended quickly.

It turned out it was Arthur who was calling her and she sighed. “I’m a little busy right now, sire,” she said. “I’d heed your orders later.”

“No,” he said, stubbornly shaking his head. “You must follow me.”

Merlin rolled her eyes, annoyed by his impatience, and searched around. There was a Patrolling Knight nearby and she mindlessly placed the bandages on his arms despite his confusion.

She glared at the amused Prince and followed behind him until they arrived inside his bedchambers. Arthur conveniently locked his door and turned around, looking at his expectant manservant.

“Well?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I thought you might need to rest,” he said, gesturing at his chair. Merlin stared at him in bewilderment, and the prince was prompted to chuckle. “I’ve seen you running around for hours, Merlin, and you look terrible. I’ve told Gaius already, so you need not worry.”

Merlin strangely looked at the prince, but strode towards the chair nonetheless. Once she was properly seated, the realization that she was _absolutely_ tired had hit her with full-force. She stretched her aching legs in front of her and rubbed her itchy eyes. She hadn’t slept for days after they’d reclaimed Camelot, and things had been busy.

Uther, who was still shaken from the past events, passed a few of his responsibilities to Arthur. The Prince had been busy with implementing plans and ordering restorations so that Camelot would once again be back to its normal state. It was Day Ten after Morgana’s defeat and things weren’t exactly stable yet.

Her eyes slowly drifted close, but she fought them open. “I don’t really think resting is a good idea,” she said, immediately shooting up from the chair. She remembered that she still had to deliver potions and salves to the village, and people would suffer more if she didn’t.

Arthur then placed a gentle hand on her head, stopping her from walking away. She looked up at him with wide, tired eyes, and blinked. “I forbid you to walk out of my room until you’ve had a nice, long nap,” he admonished, lightly glaring at his manservant.

“But…” She bit her tongue when his glare darkened, knowing that no amount of interjections would change his mind. Thus, she let him lead her back to the chair to sit once again.

Her eyes slipped close a few minutes after, and she could feel her head lolling at the side. She could hear soft chuckling, but she was _too_ tired to open her eyes. A warm hand grabbed her neck to stop her impact from the table, and the next thing she knew, she was in the arms of Arthur Pendragon.

“W-what are you doing?” she asked, slightly squirming, but he held her close.

“Shh…” he whispered, his lips brushing lightly on her forehead.

She was too tired to protest and weakly held onto his neck until he settled her down on his bed. She sleepily watched him as he tucked her inside his blanket and smoothed her hair away from her face.

His bed was so warm and so comfortable and smelled so much like him. Merlin snuggled deeply into his bedcovers, and was once again slipping back into darkness.

She might have imagined it or not, but she thought she felt a light pressure against her lips. A soft ‘thank you’ reached her ears and then sleep finally claimed her.

* * *

The grip of the guards on her arms was tight and Merlin didn’t know what to do. They were dragging her inside the Council Chamber of Doom, and her blood froze.

They finally _knew_.

How could she be stupid? The day was so warm and humid and she just couldn’t resist a quick dip in the lake. She promised to be careful, for her little swim to merely take a few minutes. Her heat-induced brain even overlooked the fact that she could use magic to conceal herself. Minutes took hours and the sound of patrolling guards had alarmed her. She desperately scrambled to her clothes, but she was too late already. The knights stared at her, dumbfounded, because they instantly recognized her as the Prince’s manservant and clearly remembered that she was supposed to be a _boy_.

Before she could even confound them, to let them forget of what they’d seen, one knight already ran back to the castle to alert the King of her treachery. She’d been called to the Council Chamber to be interrogated and Merlin knew that this time, she was too far into deep trouble for anyone to help her.

When she entered, she refused to meet Arthur’s eyes because she was _so_ ashamed of herself. She knew she should have been careful, but she had been so stupid.

Uther stared back at her, cold and calculating, unforgiving and infuriated. Despite the weakness that Morgana’s betrayal had done to him, the ruthless side in him had never left.

“The deceit that my patrolling knights spoke of,” Uther lashed out. “Do you deny them?”

Tears pricked her eyes. If she lied, her punishment would be bigger. “N-no, sire,” she shakily replied, staring down at her feet in horror as tears now steadily streamed down from her eyes.

“Does anybody know of your deceit, child?” Uther continued, his words biting now that she confessed her mistake.

Instantly, she feared for Gaius, for Gwen, for _Arthur_. She vigorously shook her head, now earnestly crying. “N-no, my lord, I-I swear. This is my entire fault a-and only mine.”

“Bring him… _her_ to the dungeons,” Uther loudly commanded. The knights who brought her once again came to her side and tightly clutched her still-sore arm. “Tomorrow at dawn, she is to be hanged for her treachery and deceit.”

She was dragged away from the council, helpless and defeated. Uther’s words were absolute; tomorrow, she would _die_.

Before she could completely leave the council chamber, she caught Arthur’s eyes.

They were wide with shock and horror.

* * *

His mind was in a jumbled mess, Arthur couldn’t properly think. Purposefully walking down into the dungeons, ignoring the looks that the knights shot at him, all he could think right now was how everything was _his_ fault.

He spotted her immediately, huddled tightly against one corner of her cell. The dungeons were particularly cold today, and he could see her horribly trembling in the dark. She had heard his footsteps for she sluggishly lifted her head to look at the newcomer. Upon seeing it was him, though, her eyes widened.

“Arthur!” she exclaimed, scrambling to her feet. “What are you doing here?”

She looked terrible and more dishevelled than usual. It was obvious she was crying a while ago, and the sight of her tearstained face twisted his heart so much he couldn’t breathe.

He stumbled closer to her prison cell and heavily leaned against the bars. His eyes were wide and fearful and damn it, _damn it_ , he didn’t know what to do.

“I-I’m sorry,” she choked, tears once again slipping down from her eyes. “I wasn’t being careful.”

Blast it all, she was! She could have protected herself, could have hidden her identity for a longer time, but no, she was an _idiot_. But seeing her wide, fearful eyes, Arthur didn’t have the heart to berate her right now. Oh, if only he could rip those blasted bars away and run away with her as far away from here as possible.

“M-my father,” he started, pausing when the fear in her eyes intensified. “I… I talked to him, Merlin, and convinced him to lighten your punishment.” He swallowed a forming lump in his throat. “Instead of being killed, you will be banished from Camelot.”

He knew it was better than dying, but the thought that he wouldn’t be able to see her anymore, clumsily tripping over uneven floors, brought an ache he’d never felt before.

“Thank you,” she whispered, brushing her tears away. “Thank you, Arthur.”

But he shook his head, because it wasn’t right for her to thank him. “I brought this upon you,” he harshly replied, angry with himself and how things turned out. “ _I_ was the one who forced you to disguise yourself. It is I who must be punished, Merlin, not you.”

“Don’t be foolish,” she reprimanded, lightly glaring at him through her tears. “It is nobody’s fault but mine.”

They both knew she was trying to appease his troubled heart. If only Arthur did not insist in bringing her to Camelot, if only Arthur did not force her to disguise herself as a boy... Merlin could have been safe in Ealdor instead. 

Arthur heavily leaned his forehead against the bars and took a deep, shaky breath. It was only when Merlin touched his cheeks when he realized he started to cry.

“I’m sorry, Merlin."

* * *

Uther’s order was for her to leave Camelot before dawn arrives. It wasn’t hard for her to wake up, because she didn’t actually sleep that well last night. Her heart was aching too much to permit sleep to claim her for the day and Merlin just laid on her bed, staring into nothingness.

Gaius was watching her pack, and she could see how much the Court Physician was trying his very best not to cry.

“You must always remember to rest, Gaius,” she reminded him, placing a few apples inside her sack. The travel to Ealdor would be a long one, anyway. She needed to have all the necessary nourishments that she could bring. “You must also eat with a proper schedule, okay? You’re growing old, Gaius. You must take care of your health more.”

Soon, Gaius was striding towards her and throwing his arms around her torso. The tears that Merlin also desperately held now dripped down her eyes, and she fondly chuckled at the old man she now came to view as a father.

“You must always take care of yourself, Merlin,” the teary Court Physician said, brushing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “And do take care of your mother, always.”

Merlin nodded against his embrace and turned back to packing. Gaius, this time, helped her.

She grabbed her travelling cloak and wore it above the simple dress that Gwen gave her as a farewell gift. Now that her secret’s out, Merlin did not think it was necessary for her to wear her tunic and breeches. They were awfully comfortable, though, and she would terribly miss wearing them.

A soft knock from the door prompted Gaius to answer it. Merlin expected him to return, but instead, Arthur Pendragon stood inside her room.

She froze in her packing and stared at him in surprise. He looked much more terrible than last night and she bit her bottom lip, overwhelmed with emotions.

“I came to say goodbye,” he stiffly said and she smiled, nodding her head.

“Thank you,” she answered back, slowly returning back to her clothes to resume packing.

The minutes ticked away in a painstaking motion, and Merlin wondered as to why Arthur was still in her room. It would be easier if he weren’t here, to say _goodbye_ , because it would be easier to leave Camelot.

His loud footsteps suddenly rang in her room and she straightened up, expectantly looking at him, but then, she found herself trapped in his arms and kissing him back.

His kiss held sorrow and Merlin could feel her tears falling from her eyes once again. His hold on her waist tightened and she wound her arms around his neck. She would terribly, _terribly_ miss him and she cursed the following days of misery, knowing it wouldn’t be the same anymore without him by her side.

He pulled away and wiped her tears. “Please wait for me,” he whispered, and she earnestly nodded her head because even though he didn’t request it, she would, and she always will.

Gingerly, he pressed a kiss against her forehead. “I love you,” he finally said, and Merlin’s mind became a jumbled mess and her feelings just became much more _painful_.

He didn’t give her the chance to reply, for he pulled away and left.

Merlin stared longingly at his retreating back and clutched her aching heart.

' _I love you, too,’_ she whispered inside and wished for the day when she could finally say it out loud to him.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Retelling of Season 4 
> 
> Merlin is still fervently waiting, bless her soul, but Arthur continues to be a stubborn prat. 
> 
> Includes Arthur as finally King of Camelot and maybe the coronation of a new queen?

Ealdor was still nice and simple. Merlin actually forgot the vast meadows and the towering trees, the friendly people and the quiet markets, the warm days and cool nights. Being here brought back pleasant memories of her childhood, memories that were void of any heartaches and fear. And she knew she should be happy she was back home.

But sadly, it wasn’t _Camelot_.

Months flew by after she was banished from the wonderful kingdom, and Merlin had no connections or news whatsoever from the kingdom. Everyday, she would sluggishly stand up from her bed and do chores for her mother, wishing, dreaming, _hoping_ that today, Arthur would come for her.

On the day that she arrived back from Camelot, Hunith welcomed her heartbroken daughter with open arms. She already heard the news from Gaius, and knew that her daughter was upset.

 _“Things will be better soon, I promise,”_ she appeased, and Merlin had clung to her words like they were her lifeline.

Things had been uneventful ever since. Without Will to keep her company, being in Ealdor became extra lonely. Hunith tried her very best to cheer her up, and Merlin was ashamed of herself for putting her mother in such a position, but she just couldn’t really bring herself to smile widely once again.

One day, however, after coming back from the woods to gather firewood, a horse stood waiting right in front of their house and she thought Arthur finally arrived to come and get her. She dashed with amazing speed, to greet him and see him because finally, _finally_ , they would see each other again.

But instead of Arthur waiting, a somber Sir Lancelot greeted her instead. Hunith already had tears in her eyes, and Merlin dreaded that the knight’s presence brought bad news.

“I came to deliver a letter from the Prince,” he said, bowing his head, unable to look directly in her eyes.

Merlin clutched the letter to her hands and read its contents. Every line Arthur wrote brought horror in her heart and tears turned guttural, Hunith had to hold her tight just to calm her daughter down.

_“… I plan to sacrifice myself in the Isle of the Blessed. Gaius said it is the only way to close the tear between the living and spirit world. Gaius said it was the only way to banish the Dorochas.”_

She had heard about the Dorochas invading Camelot and its nearby villages, and Merlin never realized they posed a greater danger to Camelot.

“ _… I’m sorry, Merlin. Please don’t wait for me anymore.”_

The windows in their house rattled because of her despair and both Lancelot and Hunith helplessly watched.

_“… After all this time, I still love you, Merlin.”_

And then, she knew that the only solution to this whole fiasco was to sacrifice herself in his stead. After all, she was destined to protect him, to keep him from dying so that he could establish the greatest kingdom he would be known for the next generations. Arthur was still not king; he could not die just yet. 

Hunith loudly protested, but her mind was set. Tomorrow, she would embark on a journey towards the Isle of the Blessed to save Arthur.

Sir Lancelot was supposed to accompany her, to direct her were her Prince was, but that night, the noble knight slipped away. In the end, it was Lancelot who sacrificed himself for the Prince and the kingdom.

Merlin bitterly cried from the news, knowing how her friend, Gwen, would be distraught from the situation. “It was my fault,” she told Hunith, clutching her mother tightly like a child. “I-It was my fault. I should have gone earlier than him.”

She mourned for the loss of her friend, and she knew that Sir Lancelot du Lac would never be forgotten in history, hailed as the noblest knight among the noblest knights.

* * *

“Uther is dead.”

Merlin’s eyes widened in shock, as she slowly looked at her mother. Hunith was gazing worriedly at her daughter, trying to gauge her reaction.

The young sorceress heavily leaned against their small table and thickly swallowed. “I-I don’t know what to say,” she said, emotions swirling inside her heart. Uther was finally dead, her brain kept on chanting, and she absolutely had no idea how to feel about this particular news.

Ever since Morgana betrayed the whole kingdom, she suspected that the king would be too distressed. He was growing old, and heartache weakened his soul. Even though she never voiced it out loud to Arthur, she knew that he would never recover from Morgana’s betrayal.

“Arthur…” Merlin said, her eyes widening once more. “He must be…”

Hunith gently smiled at her daughter and nodded her head. “He has been crowned as the new King of Camelot,” she said. “Gaius sent me a letter early this morning, and the new king had undergone the ceremonies so that the crown will be passed onto him.”

Merlin took a sharp intake of breath, disbelieving that Arthur was finally where he truly should be. All the dragon’s prophecies and reminders seemed to monumentally peak at this news.

Arthur was finally king, and he wound soon bring about the great changes that the dragon’s words promised.

But then the happiness she felt was momentarily forgotten, properly thinking of Arthur this time. She wondered what he must be doing right now; what he must be thinking or saying. But more importantly, she wondered what feelings must be residing in his heart.

“Arthur must be feeling lonely,” she said, frowning deeply at her hands. Her mother stood up from her chair, and she sadly looked at her. “I wish I was beside him when he discovered of his father’s death.”

Hunith sauntered towards her daughter and placed a fond kiss on her forehead. “I’m sure you’ve always been with Arthur, even though you are physically miles apart,” she said.

Merlin hoped what her mother said was true.

* * *

It was supposed to be a fairly normal day. Merlin expected nothing out of the ordinary to happen today. She woke up, feeling the same. Hunith prepared the usual breakfast and she went out of the house to do her usual chores. The village market was, as usual, very quiet and somber; the whole placed screamed of scarcity and once again, she was reminded of the fact that they were being reigned over by an incompetent king. She met the usual neighbours and greeted them amiably. Sometimes, they shoot her curious looks because, _well_ , she disguised herself as a boy to serve in the Kingdom of Camelot and was banished for it. It wasn’t exactly an _ordinary_ experience.

It had been over a year now ever since she was banished from Camelot. Although there was still a part of her that yearned to go back, somehow, the hope of returning was slowly dwindling. She was starting to grow accustomed to her life in Ealdor again and leaving it, with her poor mother and her friendly neigbors, would be difficult once more.

“Have you heard the news?” she heard, passing by two old mothers, heads together as they gossiped between themselves. Merlin couldn’t suppress the small, amused smile from growing. Ealdor was a small, dreary place, but it wasn’t void from gossips and rumors, too.

“What are you talking about?” the other woman asked.

The other woman’s eyes brightened with delight as she shared the news to her friend. “The King of Camelot has arrived, with a few of his knights, mind you, and _oh_ what a pleasant sight they are!”

Merlin’s world seemed to freeze with that little news for her hand went limp and the basket she was clutching was now a messy heap on the uneven ground. The two women gave her strange looks, but she ignored them and darted past them, her heart thudding loudly because _he’s here, he’s here, he’s here_.

Her eyes already filled with tears upon spotting the knights that the women talked about. It was Sir Leon who she spotted first, talking to burly Sir Percival. Sir Gwaine and Sir Elyan were lazily walking around, eyes darting to and fro in alertness.

It was Sir Gwaine who saw her first, and his eyes widened at her sight. “Merlin!” he exclaimed, and she expelled a too-girly squeal from her mouth and rushed forward, meeting Gwaine in the middle, who pulled her into his arms and lifted her into the air.

“Pretty lass, it had been a while,” he said, a cheeky grin growing on his face. He gestured at his companions, who all brilliantly smiled at Merlin. “I’m sure you remember all of them.”

She earnestly nodded and she felt so happy she didn’t know what to do.

“Your king waits inside,” Gwaine then softly whispered against her large ear, and she prettily blushed, because _he’s here, he’s here, he’s here_. “Go on.”

He completely released her and ushered her inside her house. Merlin, feeling utterly ridiculously, started trembling with emotions and more tears streamed down from her eyes. It had been a while ever since she last saw Arthur, and she didn’t know what she would do once her eyes laid upon him.

Sir Leon, with a gentle smile, opened the door for her, and she nodded her head in thanks. Merlin slowly walked inside and she momentarily stopped breathing. Arthur, with his glorious hair and eyes, stood beside one of their small windows, gazing outside with a faraway look on his face.

Hunith, who apparently was inside, stood up from her stool and kindly smiled at her tearful daughter.

“I must leave you, then,” her mother softly whispered, before scrambling outside, and leaving the two alone.

Once she was gone, Arthur chose that time to finally look at her, and a soft sob escaped from her lips. He still looked the same, so _devastatingly_ handsome, with the usual twinkle in his eyes and the lovely smile on his lips. The only difference, though, was the crown that he now proudly wore and the cloak that boasted of his new status in his kingdom.

“Merlin,” he breathlessly greeted, prompting her to start running towards him and throwing her arms around his neck. He easily caught her with a laugh, slightly stumbling at her impact, but he held her tight and deeply buried his nose against her hair. “Merlin,” he murmured once again, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against her curly hair.

She had no idea for how long they stayed in that position. It had been _too_ long, and she missed him so much that she must be allowed to hold him until she wished to stop.

“I came to take you back to Camelot,” he told her a few minutes after and hesitantly, she pulled back and looked at him with trouble on her face. “I already talked to your mother, and she said that the decision lies to you.”

She looked away from him, conflicted. “My mother is old,” she started. “I-I can’t leave her…”

“I’ve already arranged for some knights to check up on her every once in a while,” he said with a smile. “She will be provided appropriately, with enough food and medicine for the following days to come.” He was so _utterly_ proud of himself, but Merlin couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes.

“You shouldn’t have,” she said, prompting him to frown.

“I thought you’d like the arrangement,” he said, baffled. He crossed his arms and cocked his head to the right, clearly confused. “Leon thought it was a _brilliant_ idea and well… I was kind of excited to tell you that.”

Oh, his plan was brilliant, all right. But she couldn’t accept this. Arthur was already burdened with his kingly responsibilities. Merlin reckoned it would be very much unfair to him if she also burdened him with her family matters.

“Let’s do it this way,” she slowly suggested, careful not to anger him. “What if every once in a while, I go back to Ealdor so that I can visit my mother and take care of her myself?” With the way his frown deepened, she knew he did not like her idea at all. “You can give me whatever you wish for me to give to my mother, and that’s it.” He was about to open his mouth and protest, but she cut him off. “And _if_ , you refuse, then I regret to say I have to stay here.”

Her last words were uttered with difficulty, nervously swallowing as she waited for his answer. She’d be damned if she stayed here for the rest of her life. Her home was here, her mother was here, but Camelot was different.

She belonged in Camelot.

To her utmost relief, Arthur expelled a huge sigh. She could detect a small twitch at the corner of his lips. “You know, you do realize it has been a year ever since we last met, right?” he said. “I expected our reunion to be a little more… _affectionate_.” Her cheeks reddened at his implications. “But then, I’d forgotten that it is _you_ we are talking about, and you have this knack of refusing to listen to me. So, really, I’m not surprised.”

Merlin chuckled and threw her arms around him once again, not minding that he was now the king and she used to be a banished citizen. All that mattered that he was here right now, and that he wanted her to return to Camelot with him. 

“I came to take you back to Camelot,” he said once again, his lips brushing lightly against her forehead. “Will you come with me, Merlin?”

She lifted her eyes and looked at him, smiling brilliantly. “Yes,” she said, her smile widening when Arthur beamed. “Yes, I will come with you.”

* * *

Arthur flinched, limping closer to his bed as his head continued to throb. Just a while ago, Julius Borden poisoned him and his council and the after effects of the said poison were still lingering. Gaius thought they were lucky he merely gave them a low dosage; if at least a drop or two was added, then Arthur and his council might all be buried six feet under the ground.

The doors opened and in came Merlin, who refused to meet his eyes. She now clutched a small vial, presumably Arthur’s medicine, and silently placed it on his bedside table. Ever since she came back from Ealdor, Arthur gave her the position as the Court Physician’s apprentice. It would be very inappropriate to rehire her as his manservant… well, _maidservant_. He very much wanted her to take his boring manservant’s place, but he knew she wouldn’t allow such an arrangement. Her true gender was now out in the open, and people were bound to talk.

“Thank you, Merlin,” he stiffly said, still miffed with the fact that she was partially to be blamed for the fiasco that Borden had caused. Gaius, of course, told him _everything_ and he couldn’t believe Merlin’s momentary weakness.

 _“He was a person of magic,”_ Gaius told him. _“And although Merlin’s momentary lapse of judgment had caused harm to Camelot, she must still be forgiven.”_

As if he couldn’t forgive her, really. Gaius should have known better. But he was still mad at her, all right. An important egg, one that he never really knew before, was stolen and inside it was actually a baby dragon. If it fell on the wrong hands, there might be another dragon invasion in the future.

“Arthur,” she finally stated, her face twisting in shame. “I’m sorry.”

Arthur sighed and shook his head. “It surprised me how you easily trusted this… this _Borden_ ,” he snarled in annoyance, rolling his eyes at the mention of the despicable man. “Some of my men were injured, Merlin. _I_ was poisoned, and he almost killed you. What does this even teach you?”

Merlin guiltily looked at her feet and licked her lips. “I promise not to trust others instantly,” she said. “It was very stupid of me.”

“Well said, you idiot,” he said, ushering her close. Merlin hesitated for a while, before heeding his command. He reached forward and grabbed her hand, waiting until her eyes finally connected with his. “And the egg? What happened to it?”

“It hatched,” she answered.

His hold on her hand tightened in alarm. 

“I-I don’t really think it’ll cause destruction, Arthur,” she quickly explained. “It was… err _small_.”

“But it still is a dragon,” Arthur reminded her. “One day, it will grow up and it can cause destruction to the kingdoms.”

To his surprise, Merlin lightly smiled. She pointed to herself and stated, “You’re quite forgetting that you are in the presence of a Dragonlady, my lord. I can order the dragon.”

He snorted, unable to suppress his amusement. “And that, Merlin, makes you _fearsome_ ,” he said, glancing briefly all over her body. With blue, wide eyes, dishevelled, curly hair, and a slightly lanky body, no one would really suspect that she had the makings of a Great Sorceress. It didn’t help that she looked absolutely breathtaking, with a smile that could brighten his day and a touch that could calm him down.

She glared at him in offense, but he chuckled nonetheless.

* * *

“Arthur?” she whispered, opening his door and peeking inside. The pensive king was sitting on his chair, and his eyes instantly latched onto her form when she entered. Merlin gave him a small smile, which he surprisingly didn’t return. Arthur shifted his gaze away from her, baffling her more.

“You must rest, Merlin,” he deadpanned. “It had been a tiring day.”

Merlin frowned.

Something was wrong.

She slowly walked towards his desk, her eyes intently gazing at him. Just a while ago, his band of knights was victorious against Queen Annis’ army. When Arthur killed King Caerleon, his wife, Queen Annis, waged war with Camelot, and Arthur realized the gravity of what he had done. For days, Camelot was under the threat of war, and Arthur desperately tried to appease the queen. As a fairly new king, he did not wish to bring destruction upon Camelot yet.

“What you did back to Queen Annis’ champion,” she softly stated, disregarding his earlier command. “That was very brave, Arthur.” And it was, because even though he had the upper hand, even though it was obvious that he was already the winner, he refused to take his life and instead spared it.

Merlin smiled, knowing that Arthur’s reign as the new King of Camelot would bring wonders to this kingdom. What Uther lacked, Arthur made up for them magnificently, and she couldn’t wait for the future years to come.

“Thank you,” he softly said.

She was actually expecting him to boast, jokingly, of course, but it surprised her how somber and serious he looked right now. Unable to keep her mouth shut, she walked closer to him and asked, “Is something the matter, Arthur?”

The king shook his head. “You must rest, Merlin,” he urged.

“Not until you tell me what troubles you,” she interjected, frowning when he scowled.

She was being persistent and she wouldn’t leave until he told her. Arthur had a long day, too, and she knew it wouldn’t do him some good if he kept his troubles in his heart. She could see that he understood her stubbornness, and sighed in defeat, slowly rising from his feet. She waited, watching him as he sauntered towards one of his vast windows, and stared outside.

“My confrontation with Queen Annis… it just proved how big my responsibility as the new King of Camelot is, Merlin,” he quietly started, his eyes never leaving the scenery outside. “A lot of people depend on me, and one small mistake can cause drastic results.”

Why he was telling her this, she wasn't sure. Merlin continued to listen to him, waiting for some clarity. 

“Do you understand what I am trying to tell you?” he asked.

Earnestly, she shook her head. “No, I honestly don’t,” she bluntly said. She could see his reflection and the way a corner of his lips briefly lifted.

“The words I told you before you left for Ealdor a year ago, do you still remember them?” he asked so quietly, it was almost inaudible.

Merlin caught it, though, and blushed scarlet. How could she forget such words from him? Every day, every night, she longed to hear those words again. His confession was the sole reason why she continued to hope that he would come back for her one day. His confession was the sole reason why she was determined to return to Camelot to answer him back.

Ever since she came, though, she never really found the right time to truly confess to him. There were times when she thought it was the right time, but some things would happen and she would be _terrified_. What if his feelings for her changed? What if he didn’t love her anymore? The thought scared her so much because after all this time, after all those days, her feelings never changed for him.

Merlin didn’t really expect for anything to happen between them once she returned to Camelot. He was, after all, the _king_ , and he has a duty far greater than anybody born in this kingdom. She knew he had a reputation to uphold, a responsibility to follow, but sometimes… _sometimes_ , she wished he was just Arthur so she could properly love him. She was especially wary to be around him during these days, because people _talk_ , and it was infuriating. Arthur wasn’t worthy of any of their rumours and people must realize what greatness awaited them now that Arthur was king.

“Merlin?” he urged when she didn’t answer for an eternity.

“Yes,” she simply said, afraid that her voice would betray her. She was starting to understand what he was trying to tell her, and her poor heart couldn’t take it.

Arthur slowly turned away from the window to properly look at her. His eyes were bright and unreadable, and Merlin could feel a lump forming inside her throat.

“I want you, Merlin,” he earnestly whispered, the tone of his voice speaking volumes of what he truly felt. “I want all of _you_ and you have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now.”

Merlin bit her bottom lip and took a step back. _I want you, too_ , she kept on repeating to herself. _I love you, I love you, I love you_.

“But you must understand that I have a duty to my people,” he continued, his words completely breaking her heart. “And you must understand that I have to set my selfishness aside. I must be a good king to my people.” He visibly swallowed at the look on her face. “Do you understand me?”

She did, so much so it hurts, but that didn’t mean that she accepted it. She was selfish, too, and she’d waited for so long for him. She couldn’t give up now. _He_ couldn’t give up now.

But she was forgetting something, of course. Arthur was king, and the words of the king will always be _absolute_.

Thus, she wryly smiled back at him. “I think,” she started, her eyes already filled with tears. “I think a good king listens to his heart. I think a good king do as he sees fit.”

Merlin curtsied and the action was foreign to her. It had been a while now ever since she curtsied to him, especially during the days when she was still disguised as a boy and curtsying wasn’t required from her.

Her act of curtsying established the relationship that they must have for the next few years – he was her king and she would always be his servant. _Nothing_ could ever happen between them.

When she straightened up, her tears steadily flowed down from her eyes. Arthur had a pained look on his face, and she could see that there was conflict inside him. Therefore, Merlin spared him from the inner turmoil and instead turned around and fled, her tears turning uncontrollable and guttural as she neared Gaius’ bedchambers.

Maybe, it wasn’t the right decision to come back to Camelot after all.

* * *

Agravaine de Bois infuriated her so, and Merlin didn’t really understand why. There was something about, something she couldn’t put a finger on, that made him such a mysterious and dangerous person to her. Since Arthur was new to his position, Agravaine, who was Arthur’s uncle, volunteered to aid his nephew. Arthur was grateful of his uncle, but Merlin thought that Agravaine had some ulterior motives.

Of course she never voiced her suspicions to Arthur. It was obvious he cared for his uncle, and he’d be furious if she carelessly flung accusations like rotten vegetables. Besides, after their heartbreaking conversation a few weeks back, something changed in their relationship. She still continued to help Gaius with his work, and Arthur sometimes visited, but there seemed to be a wall now built in between them.

The next few days were filled with misery, but Merlin struggled to pretend that everything was all right. She busied herself with her new work, and socializing with the other servants in Camelot. Her pretense years back made her wary of any company, believing that her secret would be revealed easier if she made new friends. Now that her secret was out, she ached for some company. 

Now things were slowly coming back to normal, but Merlin suspected something big. Agravaine seemed much more fidgety and nervous, but obviously excited, and the young sorceress dreaded for the coming days.

One day, the King and his knights went out for a little hunt and Merlin came across them while picking some herbs for Gaius. She didn’t really want to accompany them while they heartlessly killed innocent animals and Merlin was about to return to the castle, when mercenaries suddenly attacked them.

Everything was a blurry of spells and swords and everything became _painful_ when she was wounded. The next thing she knew, she was in the company of Arthur and she was in so much pain.

 _“You’ve been wounded,”_ he pointed out in horror. _“We must return to Camelot immediately.”_

And she tried, she really did, but she was too weak from her wound to continue. Thus, she told him that Arthur must leave her.

 _“Are you barking mad?!”_ he exclaimed in anger, but she refused to listen to him. She pushed him away as she created a diversion, huge stones now tumbling down in between them. She could hear Arthur’s fearful shouts, but she soon passed out.

The next time she gained consciousness, Morgana was staring opposite her. A few banters were exchanged, with Morgana in disbelief that Arthur’s manservant was actually a girl. Once again, Merlin was reminded of a friend that she had lost in Morgana, and wished that she could still change.

The High Priestess then introduced her to a many-headed snake that was unknown to her. A Fomorroh, that was how Morgana called it, and she spoke about manipulation and killing Arthur. Morgana had knocked her unconscious once again, with a lingering feeling of a slithering snake at the back of her neck.

The next time she woke up, she was in Gaius’ bedchambers. She never remembered returning here, that was why she looked at the occupants in confusion. Gaius, who was holding a foul-smelling poultice, stood beside a worried Gwen and a fearful Arthur.

Apparently, for the past few days, she was _trying_ to kill Arthur. The news had horrified her, but Arthur assured her, with a jesting lilt in his voice, that she was the worse assassin he had ever seen in his whole life.

They devised a plan for her to kill the Fomorroh residing behind her neck, and once again, she turned herself into the old lady. It wouldn’t do them some good if Morgana discovered that it was _her_ who had been protecting Arthur after all this time.

To say that Morgana was terrified to see her was an understatement. Merlin wondered if Morgana had seen her in her dreams. The dragon spoke of their intertwined destiny, after all. With Morgana’s ability to foresee the future, sooner or later, she’d dream of Merlin, too.

An epic battle commenced and Merlin was horrified to discover that Morgana grew powerful, but not too powerful because in the end, Merlin still emerged as the victor. She killed the Mother beast of the Fomorroh and knew that she was successful.

Before she left, she saw _him_ , Agravaine de Bois, and that confirmed her suspicion of him. She knew that right there and then, she must keep an eye on Arthur’s uncle. Else, she feared for the future of Camelot.

* * *

“I’m sorry." 

Merlin stiffened, but she refused to turn around to face Arthur. Her heart was still too raw from what had happened to Gaius and she could not believe, for the life of her, that the king listened to his blasted uncle.

She could feel tears springing at the corner her eyes as she remembered the accusations they threw at Gaius. They all suspected him as the traitor, and she couldn’t believe that Arthur, of all people, believed them. Even after all the sufferings and sacrifices that Gaius made for his father and him, even after all the great deeds and workings Gaius did to protect the people of the kingdom, Arthur believed that it was Gaius who betrayed them all.

“It isn’t me who you should be apologizing to,” Merlin coldly said.

She heard Arthur sigh, and his quick shuffling of feet. “I already did, and he forgave me,” he ashamedly revealed, as if even he believed it wasn’t right for Gaius to forgive him easily. “And then, he suggested that I owe another person an apology.”

“Oh blast, you absolutely do,” she hysterically cried, this time turning around to face him in fury. “I _tried_ to tell you, didn’t I? I tried to tell you how your… your uncle framed Gaius because he was so keen to get rid of him.” Her eyes filled with more tears. “You should have known better, Arthur. Gaius is _loyal_ to you.”

“I’m sorry,” he once again said, his voice laced with guilt and regret and she just couldn’t stay _mad_ at him.

Merlin sniffed and haphazardly wiped her tears away. “I am partially to blame, too,” she said. When Arthur questioningly looked at him, she continued, “Gaius told me of Morgana’s desire to know who Emrys is. They’ve tortured him so that he could answer and Gaius” – she shook with emotions – “stayed strong.”

“I don’t really understand how this could be your fault,” Arthur truthfully said.

“I am Emrys,” she revealed, licking her lips. “That is what the Druids call me and I am quite sure that Morgana saw me in one of her dreams.”

Arthur’s stare hardened. “Then, you are in danger,” he said, very alarmed.

She shook her head, a wry smile appearing on her face. “Arthur,” she started, “the moment I was born here on Earth, I already was in danger. That is the price of my destiny, and we can’t do anything about it.”

He pursed his lips tightly, unable to reply back.

“Morgana is gaining more power,” she told him instead. “And I… I fear for Camelot. Agravaine…”

Arthur closed his eyes in pain and took a sharp intake of breath. “What am I to do about him?” he inquired, surprising her. The betrayal that he felt was raw and obvious on his face, and all the anger she had for him now dissipated into thin air.

“I think it is best if we still keep him close,” she suggested. “To make him believe that you still have his trust. If you act rashly, Morgana will know that you suspect of Agravaine, and a premature attack might happen. You cannot risk your kingdom once more, Arthur.”

He vigorously nodded. “You’re right,” he said, expelling a soft, weary sigh. “I just…” He shamefully looked intently at her eyes. “I’m sorry, Merlin.”

The young sorceress took a sharp intake of breath and walked closer to Arthur. He looked so tired and distressed and as a small act of comfort, she reached out for his hand and squeezed it tight. “What does this teach you, Arthur?” she asked, a small smile appearing on her face. She clearly remembered the time when he threw the same question to her.

“That you are always right,” he said, absent-mindedly lifting a hand to brush her curls away from her face. “And I must stop acting like a huge prat and listen to you more.”

Merlin nodded her head. “I hope you keep that in mind,” she lightly admonished. “And yes, I forgive you.”

* * *

A wide yawn tore away from her mouth. Arthur shot her a quick, amused look and when she noticed his gaze, she scowled and rolled her eyes.

“This isn’t the time to be amused, my lord,” she lightly admonished, lifting a hand to now rub her tired eyes.

A _Lamia_ , that was what Gaius told him a while ago, and Arthur was still in disbelief. He knew his knights were mighty and noble and utterly brave, but when a monster, albeit disguising as a beautiful woman came, they all fell one-by-one. This certain event just proved that women, no matter how the male population denied it, would always be the cause of their downfall.

“How are my knights?” Arthur inquired, absent-mindedly nodding his head at the patrolling knights standing guard in front of his bedchambers. He opened the door and ushered Merlin inside, quickly following her and closing the door.

“They’re in the process of recovery,” she said, taking one of the vacant seats. Arthur chose to saunter towards his desk and frowned at the towering amount of documents on his table. Because of this whole Lamia fiasco, he’d neglected his kingly duties. It was a little annoying to know that ever since he became king, his responsibilities _tripled_. Somehow, he longed for the days when he could meander around his kingdom free from worries and responsibilities.

“Hmm…” Arthur said, “that’s good to know.”

Silence settled in the room and Arthur allowed it. He busied himself in fixing his documents, wondering where to start. There were documents about land feuds, about fights of properties and inheritance, and a lot more that drove him insane. No wonder his father was a grumpy man; the amount of petty complaints were annoying and ridiculous.

“Is there anything you wish for me to do, Arthur?” Merlin softly asked. He looked up from a particularly ludicrous complaint (seriously, who _sues_ someone for stealing a peasant dress?) and stared at the Court Physician’s apprentice. Merlin quickly met his eyes before briefly looking away, now focusing her eyes at his rich walls and lovely curtains.

Arthur frowned, silently disappointed. Ever since he “broke-up” with her, she wasn’t the same anymore. He knew there was a wall that was established between them, and no matter how much they tried, they would never be back to what they were before. Unless, of course, Arthur tells her to ignore those stupid words he’d uttered and apologize for being a prat and a clotpole. He was tempted to do that for so many times already, but then, he’d be reminded of his responsibilities as _king_ and he just… couldn’t.

The king racked his brain for any decent excuse, but in the end, he came up with nothing. “Nothing, Merlin, thank you,” he finally said, expelling a soft, defeated sigh. “You may go.”

It might just be his imagination, but disappointment briefly flashed on her face. But then, it was gone, and she was on her feet and Arthur desperately, _desperately_ wished she could at least stay.

“I’ll be leaving now,” she said, clearing her throat to get his attention.

Arthur looked at his papers on the table and nodded his head. “All right,” he replied.

“Good night, sire,” she whispered and Arthur swallowed. This was it, she was giving him a chance to stop her from going, and Arthur silently shook. Every day, it was getting harder and harder to avoid her. It would have been easier, especially because she wasn’t his manservant anymore, but his body always betrayed him and he seeks for her, no matter how frustratingly annoying his heart and brain were combined. But once he sees her, then things would be all right, and then they would not be because he’d remember that they weren’t actually quite well.

The king clenched his hands into tight fists underneath the table and stiffly nodded his head. He refused to look up to see her before she leaves because then his resolve would broke, and he’d be blubbering excuses just to make her stay.

He heard her footsteps, painstakingly slow in his room, and every step she took broke his heart. Arthur had caused this between the two of them, and he should be relieved that she was following his orders. He must stay strong, he must be true to his words, he mustn’t _waver_ now.

Arthur froze when he heard a dainty sniff and he knew, right there and then, that she was crying. He closed his eyes and painfully leaned his forehead against the table. “Merlin,” he rasped out, and her footsteps halted. “I-I think there is a rat running amok inside my room. I’ve warned Damian about it for days, but can you believe that my new manservant is much more incompetent than you were? I honestly think you’d be able to do this job quickly than him.”

Finally, he looked at her and Merlin was still facing away from him. She was furiously wiping the tears on her face, trying to show that nothing out of the ordinary happened when in fact, she was being ridiculously obvious about it.

Merlin then looked over her shoulders, her eyes a little wide and red from the tears that silently escaped a while ago. There was a small smile tugging on her lips, though, and Arthur’s heart skipped a beat. “Of course, sire,” she finally answered, already getting into the task of hunting the rat.

Arthur sadly smiled at her crouched form, silently cursing himself for being swayed so easily. But then, of course, he’d forgotten the little lesson that he should have remembered after the whole Lamia fiasco – women, no matter how adamantly men deny it, would always be the cause of their downfall.

* * *

When she entered Gaius’ bedchambers, the King was there, seated on one of the benches, with his shoulders hunched and his eyes downcast. Merlin felt her heart fluttering briefly inside her chest, desperately stopping herself from dashing inside and drawing Arthur into her arms.

A few days ago, Arthur and his knights came across a Druid shrine. Merlin, who was with the small group at that time, warned them of the sacredness of such shrines, but they all thought that she was just being a ‘girl’ and her fear was honestly uncalled for.

Angrily, she scoffed at their ignorance and left in the end. Turned out that a few days after, she was right about the Druid shrine and Arthur his knights hadn’t listened to her, because Elyan then was discovered to have disturbed a well back in the shrine and was possessed by restless spirit of a boy.

For days, they all thought that Elyan had gone mad. Agravaine (blast that man) even suggested for Arthur to kill Elyan because if he didn’t the knight would continue pursuing to kill him. To her utmost horror, Gaius somberly concurred to Agravaine’s words because apparently, the boy couldn’t be put to rest because the man who had killed him, Uther, was already dead.

She knew this was a particularly difficult phase in Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table’s life. They were considerably close; a brotherhood formed that no one could easily break. But at the end of the day, Arthur was still king and they were merely his knights – if the king’s life was in danger, then the knights would eradicate the threat, even if he was their friend.

On the night before Elyan’s execution, Merlin followed Arthur as he dashed inside the forest. She meant to be inconspicuous, because she had no idea what she’d tell him if he discovered her. Ever since Gaius told them of the awful truth, Arthur hadn’t been the same and she _swore_ he was planning something. Merlin was determined to find it, and apparently Arthur suspected it, too, because he pointed out that he knew she was there but didn’t question her presence.

They walked in the dark forest, and Merlin constantly coaxed for him to tell her what he planned was. But Arthur refused and the entirety of his plan was only revealed when Elyan emerged, still possessed, and a deadly sword on his hand.

 _“Gaius was right about everything, except one,”_ Arthur guiltily revealed, falling on his knees. _“It wasn’t my father who led that raid that night. It was_ me _.”_

Merlin then understood why the boy was so keen in killing Arthur instead. And the king, remorseful and tearful, reverently asked for forgiveness and the boy must have seen his sincerity because he was forgiven, and Elyan was spared.

Now, the unconscious knight was in his room, resting, and it was Merlin who attended to his needs. She was surprised to see that Arthur was in Gaius’ bedchambers, and when she finally announced her presence, he looked up in worry.

“How is Elyan?” he asked.

Merlin smiled in assurance. “He is all right, Arthur,” she said, nodding her head. “There’s no need to worry now.”

He visibly relaxed and grinned, vigorously nodding his head. “I’m glad, I’m glad,” he said distractedly, getting onto his feet. He looked frazzled and dishevelled, and the dark bags under his eyes were prominent. “I think… I should just…”

She moved towards him, her steps hesitant, and tried to reach for his arm. She flinched for a while, before deciding to rest it on his arm. Arthur stiffened, darting an alarmed glance on her hand, and once again, she was reminded of their conversation back then. With tight lips, she made a move to remove her hand from his arm, but Arthur lifted his other hand and placed it on top of hers.

Her cheeks gradually grew red, actually forgetting how warm and big his hands were. “A-are you all right, sire?” she asked, clearing her throat in nervousness.

His grip on her hand tightened. “I’ve done terrible things in the past, Merlin,” he started hoarsely. “Terrible things that I am not very proud of. The Druid boy… he was proof of how naïve and ruthless I was back then.” He nervously swallowed, but he intently held her gaze. “What does that make you think of me?”

Merlin’s eyebrows knitted together. “I don’t think a servant’s opinion matters, my lord,” she said, tugging her hand away. Arthur, however, held on tighter, and she helplessly stared back into his eyes.

“It matters to me,” he quietly confessed, and her heart skipped a beat. It was the closest thing to a confession, and Merlin briefly closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the emotions dancing in her heart.

“I-I think,” she then answered. “I think that doesn’t change how I view you, Arthur. In fact, I thought you became nobler and wiser and _good_ because you’ve acknowledged your mistakes and you humbled yourself down by asking for forgiveness.”

Arthur smiled, slowly unlatching her hand away from her arm. Instead of pulling completely, he fondly held her hand and gazed into her eyes. “You truly think that?” he asked.

And Merlin, fearing that her mouth would betray her, merely nodded her head.

For a moment, something flashed in Arthur’s eyes, something she had seen a few times before whenever he looked at her and only her. The dormant hope in her heart, the hope that was slowly diminishing because of his new status in Camelot and the words he had uttered to her months ago, was suddenly awakened and she could feel tears building up at the corner of her eyes.

It was scary to think that despite his blatant words that requested for her to stop waiting for him, to stop _hoping_ , she still had this unwavering faith that one day, things between them would be wonderfully great.

It was scary to think that she was too deeply in love with Arthur to give up on him.

* * *

“Merlin?”

The young sorceress almost jumped in surprise, swivelling around to see a sheepish Gwen.

“I-I’m sorry to startle I just thought you might need a… err… friend today,” the maidservant whispered, the sheepish smile on her face now slowly turning into a sad one.

Unwittingly, tears gathered at the corner of Merlin’s eyes and she looked away from her friend, afraid that she would breakdown. “R-really, Gwen,” she shakily answered. “Y-you really shouldn’t have bothered I…” The words died down from her lips as a sob choked out, and to her horror, they never stopped.

“Oh, Merlin,” Gwen tearfully whispered, walking inside to envelop her distressed friend into a hug. “Everything will be all right.”

But the thing was, it _wouldn’t_ , because Arthur was betrothed to Princess Mithian and it was painfully obvious that they were mutually attracted with each other.

A few days ago, Princess Mithian of the Kingdom of Nemeth came to Camelot to settle a land dispute between her kingdom and Camelot. Merlin didn’t really put much thought about her visit, thinking that Arthur could settle it with his vast knowledge and kingly characteristics, until, one night, he announced to his whole council that he was to be married to Princess Mithian as a compensation to the dispute.

Merlin swore her whole world stopped when the said princess, beautiful and kind and so, so gentle, stood up from her chair to be introduced to the whole council. It was obvious they were pleased with the king’s decision (Agravaine being the most pleased among all) and all Merlin could think was that she felt sick in the stomach and she had to flee the Banquet Hall.

The next few days were a whirlwind of heartbreak and tears, and Gaius, worried for his ward, constantly kept her company. Merlin appreciated his efforts, but Gaius’ presence wasn’t enough to comfort her broken heart. The Court Physician even desperately sent a letter to her mother to tell her of the news.

" _If he isn’t for you, then you must accept the reality, my love,”_ her mother wrote to her, unable to travel from Ealdor. _“This doesn’t mean that you cannot love anyone anymore, Merlin. This just means that there is a far greater man who suits you greatly.”_

Her mother’s words brought slight comfort to her, but her heart was too broken to accept any logic and reasoning.

Gwen constantly accompanied her, too, trying to distract her with chores and even talks that were nowhere near sensitive. Merlin found these little moments with Gwen a comfort, because she was heartbroken once. Guinevere still loves Lancelot, and even his death wouldn’t extinguish that, but Gwen managed to live for the following days. It gave Merlin some hope that perhaps, one day, she would be well, too.

She managed to avoid Arthur at all costs. She even steered clear of places where she knew Arthur would frequent. The king took tonics for strength and endurance and usually, Gaius would send her to deliver them. But Gaius, knowing the state of her heart, brought those tonics to the king instead.

Merlin thought she was managing well. Her heart still constantly ached, but she didn’t randomly burst into tears whenever someone asked her how she was. During times when her presence was required in meetings, she trained herself not to look at Arthur at all. She congratulated herself for staying strong, and she knew that one day, she would be all right.

The walls that she desperately built came tumbling down one night, when Arthur burst into Gaius’ bedchambers. Merlin instinctively stood up and hid inside her room, horrified to discover that the tears she held back for the past few days steadily streamed down from her eyes.

“Merlin,” Arthur called, banging his fists against her door. “Merlin, we need to talk.”

But she refused to go out and hugged her knees closer to her chest. She could hear Gaius’ muffled voice and Arthur’s enraged answers, and she desperately, _desperately_ wanted him to go away. It took about an hour for Arthur to finally give up and leave, and Merlin was back to picking up the broken pieces of her heart.

She thought she could avoid him for the following days, but Arthur cornered her. She was about to leave Gaius’ bedchambers, intent on going to Gwen’s house to help the maidservant with her chores today. Gaius was already in the village, attending to patients struck with cholera. Just when she was about to leave, King Arthur himself barged inside and locked the door behind him.

“ _Move_ ,” Merlin harshly spat, outstretching her right arm. “Move or I’ll make you.”

She forgot that Arthur was a determined man. She forgot that Arthur could be annoyingly stubborn. He closed the gap between them and tightly held her arm, looking intently into her eyes.

“We need to talk,” he rasped out, and in that moment, she properly saw his face. She caught glimpses of him from afar, with a laughing face and twinkling eyes, whenever he was with Princess Mithian. For days, she believed that he was truly happy, and although her heart was breaking into a million pieces, it brought her comfort that at least one of them was happy. But now that she was properly looking at his face, she saw the how sallow his cheeks were, how dark the bags under his eyes were, and how _utterly_ tired he looked.

Perhaps, the laughing face and the twinkling eyes were a mere pretense.

“I’m busy, sire, and I am sure you are, too,” Merlin finally replied, her shoulders sagging in exhaustion. “I don’t really think we need to talk.”

Something flashed in his eyes and his hold on her arm slackened. “You’re mad at me,” he pointed out and she pursed her lips, at loss of what to do or reply. “You’re mad at me.”

He completely pulled his hand away and took a step back. “You must understand that I have a duty to my people,” he started, his voice strangely tight and soft. Merlin felt a lump forming in her throat. “You must understand that I have to choose my people above all else.”

She vigorously nodded her head because she understood him, completely, and that was what hurt the most.

“Mithian…” She felt her heart constricting when she heard her name. “Mithian is a kind lady. She has the makings of a great queen.”

She closed her eyes and wryly smiled. “I-I figured,” she said. “She is _kind_ , Arthur.” It would have been easier if she was a troll or an evil witch.

“I’m sorry, Merlin.”

And she released a guttural sob because he should _damn_ be. She earnestly cried because their situation was so complicated. She never asked for this. She never asked to fall in love with him. She never asked to have a destiny that was intertwined with his. It was simply unfair.

Arthur made a move to touch her, but she recoiled back. His hand limply fell back to his side, the pain of their situation also etched on his face.

“W-why did you even ask me to return?” she asked, lifting a hand to wipe her tears away.

“I am a selfish man,” he replied back, a wry smile on his face.

Merlin sniffed and openly stared at him, her eyes wide and wet with tears. “I love you,” she finally confessed. She saw the shift on his face with her confession. “I love you, Arthur.”

She knew that her confession wouldn’t change anything, but it was a relief to say it out loud. “A-and it is my destiny to protect you,” she said, wiping her remaining tears away. “So whatever you choose, whatever decisions you make, I’d always support you, Arthur. R-remember that.”

She strode past him without a single glance back, hoping that despite how things didn’t work out like what she had hoped, they would sooner or later live a happy life.

Two days later, a heartbroken Princess Mithian left, with Arthur’s promise of surrendering the lands that his kingdom had captured from her ancestors.

And Merlin… Merlin was _confused_.

* * *

“You mustn’t listen to him, you know.”

Arthur sighed, lifting his head as Merlin strode forward and sat on the log beside him. She was pointedly looking at him, quite serious with the words she stated a while ago, and he couldn’t help but lightly smile at her. Sometimes, it awed him how much faith Merlin placed upon him.

“But Tristan is right,” the king quietly said, shifting his gaze on his hands. “I am a terrible king.”

Weeks ago, Morgana, allied with Helios and the Southrons, attacked Camelot. They were too powerful to be held back, and soon, the enemies swarmed inside the formidable citadel, wreaking havoc and instilling fear in the hearts of his people. Arthur, anguished and angered, fought blindly against them, wishing that at least one of those was Morgana.

Merlin confounded him, that blasted girl, when she beseeched for them to leave and he insisted that they stayed and fight. He was still miffed with the fact that she used her magic against him, but he gradually accepted the situation that they were into. Helios and the Southrons were a formidable army, almost rivalling the mighty Knights of the Round Table, and somehow, he was slowly despairing from the idea that they could reclaim his throne.

It didn’t help that they were travelling with smugglers. Tristan and Isolde was what they called themselves. He was wary of their presence, especially because they were the kind of persons he’d instantly send to the dungeons or even to death. Tristan, the leader of the smuggling group, seemed to share his mutual hatred because he made it a point to verbally accuse Arthur of his incompetence and his selfishness.

“Tristan doesn’t know anything,” Merlin protested, a scowl blooming on her lovely face. “His judgment is uncalled for.”

He was touched by her defense. Merlin made it obvious that she disliked Tristan, too, and the only reason they kept on travelling with them was the fact that they were actually safer together and Isolde, who was injured after they were attacked by Agravaine and his men, was a kind, sweet woman.

“I don’t think we can win this time, Merlin,” Arthur said, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “We’re fighting against a mighty army.”

Merlin bristled on her seat. “You’re forgetting something,” she lashed out, tightly crossing her arms against her chest. With her eyes ablaze, her hair a lovely disarray, and her cheeks ruddy, she was beautiful, and Arthur found himself taking in a sharp intake of breath to calm his nerves. “You are in the presence of a sorceress.”

He smiled at her ridiculous passion for stating her true identity. It still baffled him how Merlin could be so proud of her magic when they used to be in the age of The Great Purge. Although he was tolerating magic now, the law about persecuting sorcerers hadn’t been rebuked yet. It would be utterly dangerous for her if she showed random bursts of magic.

“I’m going to think of a plan,” she vehemently said, intently staring into his eyes. “I’m going to think of a plan that would ignite that dormant hope in your heart and I _swear_ , we will reclaim your throne.”

Arthur sighed and nodded his head. Tristan’s words were now forgotten, and he now believed Merlin’s words. One thing he learned after being in her presence for years was that she was _always_ right. If she proclaimed that they will reclaim Camelot from Morgana and her evil clutches, then Arthur knew that they would.

* * *

“Arthur?” she asked, peeking inside. The said king was sitting on his chair behind his desk, and when her head came into view, he straightened up. “Damian said he couldn’t serve you today. He’s suffering from a cold so I kind of volunteered to take his stead.” She fully stepped inside and smiled at him. “If it is okay with you, of course.”

The king absentmindedly nodded his head, prompting her to raise an eyebrow. She didn’t say anything, though, and instead started her chores.

It had been a while now since she cleaned Arthur’s bedchambers and with dismay, it was in a _terrible_ state. When Arthur said that Damian was more incompetent than she was, he wasn’t joking and merely riling her up. Goodness, she could make his room cleaner than him!

“Has Tristan been well?” Arthur asked, slowly raising up from his seat.

Merlin gave him a quick glance and she sadly smiled. “I think he will manage,” she said, her heart going for the poor man.

A few days ago, they fought against Morgana and Helios’ army so that Arthur could reclaim his rightful position in the kingdom. With the magical sword now in his possession, Merlin knew that Arthur would have a chance to defeat the invaders. He never really believed her little story about the sword in the stone, but she knew he appreciated her effort, especially because his people who survived believed her story and became more faithful to their king.

The sword didn’t fail them, for Arthur was able to slay Helios. Morgana was heavily wounded, but she disappeared into nothingness before they could battle. The surviving Southrons either fled or killed themselves; others were immediately imprisoned and punished by execution.

There were a few casualties in their part, and sadly, one of them was Isolde. Poor Tristan, his heart was broken, but at least, Isolde died nobly by saving the King. Tristan didn’t blame Arthur, though; during their days of hiding, Tristan finally saw the great king that Arthur was and would be, and became loyal to him, too.

With Isolde gone, Arthur gave Tristan a chance to change his smuggling ways. Tristan embraced the change, too afraid that if went back to being a smuggler, it would only remind him of his lost love. Arthur gave him the position as a blacksmith in Camelot, having witnessed his skills before, which Tristan gladly accepted. Ever since then, Merlin was the one who took care of the heartbroken Tristan, making sure that he was well.

Merlin sauntered towards his laundry bin, bending down to collect them into her arms.

“Merlin,” he called.

The young sorceress straightened up and looked behind. The king was strangely looking at her, and before she could even decipher his look, he was already in front of her.

“Sire, wha - ”

The words died down from her mouth when Arthur bent down and captured her lips. She was too stunned to move while Arthur tightly wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. He was kissing her so fervently, so _passionately_ and her head started spinning.

She soon responded, matching his fervor and holding him tight. Her knees buckled and if Arthur wasn’t holding her, she would have been a messy heap on the floor now.

His kisses then turned slow and sweet, and he was giving her a few more pecks before he completely pulled away. Arthur was heaving, but his eyes were alight and twinkling. The arms on her waist tightened and he leaned his forehead against her curly hair.

“Merlin,” he murmured again, his breath warm against her cheek.

Confused and disoriented, she raised a hand and weaved them through his glorious, blond hair. “I-I don’t understand,” she replied.

Arthur slowly pulled away and he looked down at her, earnestly and fondly, that her breath hitched with emotions. “After what happened to Isolde, I was s-so _terrified_ ,” he said, his eyes narrowing in fear. “You are not exactly the most danger-free person in this kingdom and I thought… I thought what if it was _you_ who died? I-I cannot accept that. I…” He paused and swallowed, his blue eyes tumultuous and conflicting. “I cannot lose you.”

Merlin smiled and brushed away some of his hair away from his forehead. “I’m not going anywhere,” she assured him. “We’re two sides of the same coin, remember? Whatever you do, whatever decisions you make, you cannot get rid of me that easily, Arthur Pendragon.”

He gave her a gentle smile and lifted a hand, placing it daintily against her cheek. “I had been such a prat to you these past few months, hadn’t I?” he asked. “I’ve caused you so many worries and heartaches. I shouldn’t be worthy of your forgiveness.”

Merlin frowned, steadily growing confused with the words he was saying. When Arthur pulled away and took a few steps back, he continued, “I am your king, and you are my servant. That’s the way we have always been, right?”

At loss of what to do, she merely nodded.

“And I, being a complete imbecile, told you that that is what we’re always going to be,” he murmured, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “You told me once that a good king follows his heart; that a _good_ king do as he sees fit.”

He gingerly clutched her hand and held it tight. “I love you, Merlin,” he continued, and her heart skipped a beat. “From the first moment I laid eyes on you in Ealdor – filthy, innocent, _beautiful_ – I fell in love with you. I might sound like a besotted fool but that is the truth, and nobody can change that.”

She worried her bottom lip and looked at the ground in embarrassment. “I love you, too,” she whispered, her cheeks gradually warming.

Arthur released a joyous laughter, prompting her to look at him. “I have been so _stupid_ , so _stubborn_ to think that for me to be the great king you always yammered about, I must choose my people above all else; that I must not follow my heart, whatever it screams for me to do,” he continued. “I pushed you away because I thought being together… being with you is wrong. But you bring out the best in me, _you_ make me feel that I must be a better person, and that is a good thing.”

He lifted her hand against his lips and he kissed her knuckles. Her cheeks reddened more, but apparently, Arthur wasn’t finished. “Oh God, I love you,” he repeated, now leaning his forehead against her hand. “I love you so much it is terrifying to think that sometimes I would gladly give up everything I have, I would gladly thwart away everything that I own, just to be with you.”

Tears sprang in her eyes and she shakily smiled. “I’d do the same for you,” she said, nodding her head.

To her utmost surprise, the next thing Arthur did was get down on his knees. “Please be my queen,” he declared, his voice soft and vulnerable. “I-I cannot bear to be apart from you anymore, Merlin, and I fear that I might do stupid things again and hurt you more. So I’m asking you now to marry me, and I’d cherish and love you forever.”

Her tears streamed down and she fell down on her knees, too. She threw her arms around Arthur’s neck, dropping kisses on his face. “Yes,” she happily claimed. “A thousand times, yes." 

* * *

She nervously strode inside, aware that all eyes were on here. Merlin concentrated on her walk, afraid that she would trip and make a fool out of herself if she didn’t. It was her special day after all, and she couldn’t afford to be the laughingstock of the kingdom.

Merlin then pointedly ignored everyone around her and focused ahead, a beaming Arthur Pendragon waiting for her.

Her heart swelled with love, knowing that a few hours from now, she’d be his _wife_. She’d dreamt about this day, waited for this day, and for it to happen now made her disoriented and giddy.

She finally stood beside him and he held her hand, guiding her until they were standing in front of Sir Geoffrey of Monmouth. He presided the wedding ceremony and _honestly_ , all the words that came out from his mouth were senseless babbles.

“You’re dazing off,” Arthur murmured against her ear and she grinned. He knew her too well. “Idiot.”

She couldn’t be blamed now, could she? She was too excited and happy and all she could focus on now was the fact that she was marrying Arthur.

They soon exchanged rings and sincere vows – vows that made Merlin teary until Arthur lifted a hand and gently brushed a tear away.

“I now present to you, man and wife,” Sir Geoffrey finally proclaimed.

Arthur brought a hand against her cheek and leaned, finally sealing their future with a sweet kiss.

A servant then came forward, with a pillow on his hands and a crown sitting on top of it. Arthur briefly kissed her hand before letting her go, as Merlin went down on her knees and bowed her head.

“By the power vested in me,” Arthur declared, lifting the crown from the pillow and slowly placing it on top of her head, “I crown thee, Merlin of Ealdor, Queen of Camelot.”

The crown now sat atop her head and Arthur held out his hand, his smile now reaching his ears. Merlin placed her hand on top of his and allowed him to pull her up. Arthur bent down and gave her a sweet kiss, before turning her around for the crowd to behold.

“Long Live the Queen!” he boomed, and Merlin shakily smiled.

“Long Live the Queen!” they exclaimed in return. “Long Live the Queen!”

And Merlin, now queen of the kingdom she love, gazed down at the people, silently promising to be the wise and good queen that Camelot deserved.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Retelling of Season 5. 
> 
> Features Merlin's double life as a Queen and the King Prat's protector.
> 
> Also features pretty Mordred

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the lateness. Life happened huhu.

* * *

He couldn’t sleep, but really, what was new?

King Arthur shifted on his vast bed, trying to find a comfortable position and at the same time making sure that his gaze would not stray away from his wife’s face. Sleeping beside another person was strange to him. Arthur was used to rolling around his bed, trying to maximize its vastness and comfort. Now, he was forced to sleep at the far left of the bed to accommodate Merlin.

He didn’t really mind this new arrangement. In fact, the warmth she exuded comforted him considerably. The problem was, her sleeping face was an _utter_ distraction and no matter how much he closed his eyes and let sleep take hold of him, he couldn’t help but stare at her for the whole night. This simple action brought contentment in him, albeit humongous exhaustion in the morning.

It was partially her fault why he developed insomnia during nights when he needed to sleep the most. She chose the right side of the bed where the moonlight shines brightly at night. Bathed with the natural light made her look so appealing to him, so _mesmerizing_ and Arthur thought he’d exchange all the sleep that he must have just to gaze at her peaceful face for the rest of his life.

It was a laughable habit, and perhaps an embarrassing one. He couldn’t help it, though, and watching her sleep wasn’t entirely a boring habit.

There were nights, however, when she, too, was awake. His cheeks gradually grew warm, remembering the first night they made love. The way her hands were _everywhere_ , they way her scent filled his senses, and the pleasure of holding her tight and kissing her until the moon disappeared from the night sky…

“You should really get some sleep,” her soft voice resounded in the whole room, startling him. Arthur looked at her in confusion, and Merlin shifted on their bed, her face now completely facing him. Her eyes were open and squinting, the remnants of sleep still obviously seen on her face. Her curly hair was splayed messily on top of their pillow and he could take a whiff of it. It reminded him of a flowery meadow and a cool, playful breeze. A small, sleepy smile was stretched on her face and his heart skipped a beat. He’d seen that smile for years now, and Arthur knew, no matter how much time passed by, that he would never get tired of seeing that expression on her face.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he confessed.

Merlin sighed and lifted her hand, placing it gently against his cheek. Arthur moved his face so he was now kissing the inside of her hand. “Tomorrow is a big day, Arthur,” she said, pausing as a soft, dainty yawn escaped from her lips. He found his heart swelling with love just by looking at her, and he knew he was being _ridiculous_.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he rasped out again.

His wife shifted closer to him until she could snuggle against his chest. He automatically draped his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. He tucked his chin on top of her head, and against his skin, he could feel her smile growing.

Arthur’s hand now rhythmically ran through her curly hair and she sighed in contentment. The king bent down and planted a kiss on her forehead, on her nose, and finally on her lips. He kissed her, slow and gentle, and she responded with equal gentleness.

“Merlin,” he murmured, his lips now trailing down her jaw until her neck, and she released that same, soft sound that made his toe curl in delight. His lips continued their journey down to her left shoulder, tugging her sleeve away in the process. Merlin released an odd mixture of a moan and laugh, before lightly pushing Arthur’s face away from her.

Arthur groaned, annoyed at being stopped, but Merlin chuckled once again and placed a kiss on his nose. “Not tonight, great king,” she softly teased. “You need all the rest that you can get. Tomorrow is a big day, remember?”

The King softly sighed and pulled away. Merlin, whose eyes were wide and gleaming in the dark, stared at him in amusement. “Blast those kings,” he lightly murmured, although he followed his wife and merely held her close.

Tomorrow, all the kings of the Five Kingdoms were to meet again for another peace conference. Arthur was somehow wary of this meeting, but he couldn’t help but feel a little anxious and excited. The last time there was a peace treaty, his father was still alive and he became infatuated with Lady Vivian. Cringing, he could remember hazy pictures of his love potion-induced actions and he dreaded it. Now that he has his queen, he was sure that Vivian would leave him alone. Or better yet, he hoped that his father wouldn’t bring her at all so that the peace treaty would go on smoothly.

Merlin, noticing the disgruntlement on his face, lifted a hand and fondly rubbed his cheek. “I’d be beside you all the time,” she promised, a pretty grin blooming on her face. “Even if your council is scary and the kings are intimidating, I swear to stay beside you until the end of the peace treaty.”

Arthur gave her a small smile and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. Her constant presence beside his throne considerably calmed his chaotic and busy life. He couldn’t imagine all the years his father had gone through without a queen by his side; he couldn’t imagine the coming years without _Merlin_ by his side.

“Now go to sleep,” she admonished, snuggling closer to him. She pressed a few kisses on his jaw before resting her head on his chest.

A few minutes after, Arthur finally fell into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

“ _Mer_ lin.”

The queen froze and slowly turned around, a sheepish smile blooming on her face as she gazed at Arthur. The said king had his arms crossed and his eyebrow raised in question. She could detect amusement in his eyes, though, and her sheepish grin widened.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t be able to find me,” she said, releasing a soft sigh. She lifted the hem of her wonderful dress, noting with dismay how it was now soiled from all the constant running she did in the meadows. “Should I return now?”

She longingly looked at the vast meadow, with beautiful flowers producing a wonderful scent. The towering trees danced with the playful wind, and Merlin found herself sighing in utter contentment.

Days ago, she found this piece of land in Camelot and fell in love with it at first sight. Everything was alive, and it reminded her of _Ealdor_. Now that she was a queen of a great kingdom, she doubted she’d be able to visit her village anytime she wanted to. Thus, after discovering this meadow, Merlin found herself seeking solace in this place, especially after a very long, and tiring day.

Being queen was not a joke. Everything should be absolutely serious and prim and proper and just _downright_ elegant. As a queen, Merlin was horrified to discover she had to practice the proper etiquette and decorum. Since she was born and raised as a commoner, all the things that were thrust into her direction were terrifying and overwhelming and sometimes, she longed for the days when she could just meander through the forest without any knights constantly trailing her back.

There were times when she wondered if saying yes to becoming the queen was the right decision after all. Those times were miserable and exhausting for the young sorceress, feeling extremely restrained and suffocated.

But then, she’d see Arthur, and everything, every gruelling hour under her horrible tutor, every gruelling hour in the library memorizing the genealogy of the Pendragon House, every gruelling hour practicing proper curtsying and dining and _dancing_ (for goodness’ sake!) would all melt away, overpowered by the love she held for her king.

With Arthur, Merlin thought that all the sacrifices she made were all worth it.

“I’m sorry,” she remorsefully said, walking towards her shoes and wearing them. Merlin also bent down and clutched her crown, flinching when she realized that Arthur was still pointedly staring at her. She straightened up and placed the crown on her hair.

“You didn’t arrive on your supposed tutorial session with Sir Kay,” he pointed out, his eyebrow rising higher.

Merlin slightly pouted. “He is a _frightful_ man,” she honestly said, wringing her wrists. He remembered how the member of the court stared down at her sometimes, making her feel insignificant and stupid. “I-I’m sorry… I thought I just needed a little break.”

“Do you regret this?” Arthur blurted out. Her eyes widened at his implications and her jaw dropped. “Do you regret being my queen?”

“ _Of course not!_ ” she cried with incredible passion, stomping closer to him. “How you can think of something so… so… _ridiculous,_ Arthur Pendragon! My tutors might be horrible. My sudden responsibility might be terrible. My proper decorum and etiquette might be ghastly. But I love you, and don’t you ever, _ever_ think that I regret saying yes to your proposal.”

By the time she finished her small tirade, she was heaving. She desperately wanted for Arthur to understand what she was going through.

To her utmost surprise, a small smirk appeared on Arthur’s face. “Riling you up is terribly easy, yes?” he asked. Upon seeing her shocked expression, Arthur chuckled and drew her into his arms. “Of course I know you’re having a hard time, my queen. And I’ve seen how you worked so hard. That is why I love you, too… no, I love you _more_ and marrying you was the best decision I have ever done in my whole life.”

Merlin weakly hit his broad chest, prompting him to chuckle once again. “Prat,” she fondly whispered, already standing on her tiptoes to meet his descending lips.

“I know,” he murmured and pressed his lips against her waiting ones.

* * *

Her mind was a jumbled mess and it took all of the willpower she could muster to stay seated on her throne, albeit stiffly, once the doors of the Throne Room opened and two guards, with Sefa, came inside. At the corner of her eyes, she saw Gwen’s worried looks and Gaius’ pointed stares.

A few days ago, Gwen told her of Sefa’s suspicious disappearance at nights. Merlin brushed such news away, too worried over the fact that her husband was somewhere far away from Camelot, looking for his knights who mysteriously disappeared. Sir Gwaine and Sir Percival hadn’t been found for days now, and Arthur grew immensely worried. Merlin desperately begged to come, but the king told her that while he was away, the kingdom needed their queen.

Sefa was then thrown on the ground and Merlin flinched. The tears that were streaming down the maidservant’s eyes twisted her heart in pain. She’d seen Sefa before, running around and doing errands for the kingdom. She even managed to talk to her a few times before, and she thought the maidservant was a kind, sweet girl. It turned out she was a _Druid_ and she and her father had been aiding Morgana, who was behind the disappearances of the Knights of Camelot.

The room was silent, all expectant eyes looking at their queen. Merlin shook with overwhelming emotions, despaired with the fact that at the end of the day, they still knew her decision counted, even if she desperately wanted to be away from here as far as possible.

Merlin then took a deep breath and stood up. It wasn’t proper for the queen to look weak and vulnerable in front of the people who looked up to her. She’d seen Arthur’s stoic face before, even during the most pressing times, and once again, she was bewildered as to how nobles were able to successfully conceal their emotions.

“Guinevere saw you eavesdropping in our meeting a few days ago and leaving the citadel afterwards,” Merlin started, surprised how levelled her voice sounded when her heart was pounding loudly inside her ribcage. “Do you deny this, Sefa?”

Despite the tears shining in her eyes, the maidservant strongly shook her head. “No, my lady, I don’t,” she whispered almost inaudibly.

A lump formed in Merlin’s throat and she briefly closed her eyes.

“I met with my father,” Sefa hastily continued.

Merlin took a deep breath and opened her eyes. For a moment, she met Gaius’ eyes and she could feel a sob trying to claw its way out of her throat. She would hate herself forever for stating the next few words, but a law is a law, and Sefa posed a threat far greater than anyone in Camelot right now.

“Bring her to the dungeons,” Queen Merlin said, her eyes never leaving the defeated face of the maidservant. “Tomorrow after dawn, she is sentenced to death.”

The room soon filled with Sefa’s cries, now being dragged by the knights outside the Throne Room. Merlin chose to stare at the bare wall opposite her, trying to keep her emotions at bay.

Then, she dismissed the council, telling them to become alert if there were any news about the king and his knights.

“Everything will be all right, Merlin,” Gwen whispered, placing a comforting hand on top of her shoulder, before striding away and leaving her alone.

Merlin thought she was the only person in the Throne Room, but when Gaius came into her vision and started walking to her, the stoic mask she crafted a while ago now crumbled down. Tears leaked from her eyes and sobs racked her body, and she was aware of the Court Physician’s arms wrapping tightly around her shoulder.

“Hush now, dear girl,” Gaius soothingly said, rubbing a hand against her back.

Fear gripped her heart. “Arthur might be in danger, Gaius,” she whispered in terror, burying her tearstained face against her mentor’s neck. “S-Sefa heard _everything_ and she might have told it to her father and M-Morgana.” She took a deep shuddering breath and her tears increased. “O-oh gods, Gaius, I don’t know what to do.”

“You must be faithful that Arthur will be able to come back,” Gaius soothingly told her and Merlin sniffed.

“I’m going to follow them,” she determinedly said, pulling away from the Court Physician’s face and haphazardly wiping her tears away. “I have to follow them, Gaius. Arthur might be in mortal peril right at this very moment.”

Gaius shook his head, aghast with his words. “You cannot, your highness,” he pointed out, gripping Merlin’s shoulders. “You have a great responsibility here in Camelot. You cannot leave the kingdom and put yourself in danger, too.”

“Just because I am queen now doesn’t mean I am not Merlin anymore, Gaius,” she softly said, placing a hand on his. “At the end of the day, my responsibility is still _Arthur_. My destiny is him and I cannot do nothing when I know he is in danger.”

He tried to pull away, but Merlin held onto him tighter. “I-I trust the council with their decisions, Gaius,” she murmured, drawing the old man into a hug. “I’m sure that once I’m gone, they’d be able to still keep the kingdom in its stable state.”

Gaius was silent for a while and Merlin allowed him to. He knew he was struggling to choose whether to agree with her plan or not.

Finally, Gaius sighed and sagged against her in defeat. “Come back safely to Camelot,” he whispered, brushing a tender kiss on her forehead. “That is all I am asking from you.”

* * *

“I am still very cross with you,” Arthur said once his queen entered their bedchambers. Merlin stared back at him, somber, and slowly nodded her head.

“I’m sorry,” she all but whispered.

He tiredly sighed and walked towards his desk, sitting behind it to rest his weary body. They just arrived back to Camelot, and Arthur terribly missed the comfortable bed. They’d been sleeping on the ground for days and his back hadn’t stopped aching ever since. Added from the discomfort was the fact that he was once again confronted by Morgana. And of course, the fact that _Merlin_ defied his orders and followed him.

“You should have stayed in Camelot instead,” he continued berating, his eyes never leaving her form.

Despite her remorse, she stubbornly lifted her chin. “Then, you could have died,” she pointed out. Which was, to his dismay, the _truth_. Morgana had gained more power and she was starting to scout for other powerful allies. Arthur was starting to fear for the day when he would be nothing but an insignificant dot in Morgana’s life, with him helpless to defend himself against the powerful High Priestess.

“Merlin,” he started, “you must understand that you are now the Queen of Camelot. The kingdom, _our_ kingdom, looks up to you and they have faith that we will be able to protect them from invasions and other threats. You cannot… you cannot just run away and follow me to my quests like the old times.”

She was quiet for an eternity and Arthur wondered if she was angry. Expectantly, her eyes narrowed and she stomped furiously towards his desk, her eyes ablaze and her cheeks reddened. “It is my destiny to protect you,” she harshly spat, prompting him to frown. “Kilgharrah spoke of a destiny far greater than anything else and I am merely following what I am supposed to do.”

“Do not speak to me like that,” he replied, annoyed. “I am still your King.”

To his surprise, she scoffed. “And I am _your_ Queen,” she responded back, trembling with unsuppressed fury. “It is my duty to talk some sense to my idiotic king and _no_ , you cannot tell me how I speak and how I act to the likes of you, you horrible, _horrible_ prat. I just saved your blasted life and I-I was forced to sentence someone to death and you have no idea… no _absolutely_ idea how - ” Her words died down as her eyes shone with tears, and she turned her face away from him.

“The Diamir spoke of your bane,” she continued, her voice now thick with her tears. “A-and Morgana desperately scoured the whole lands to search for it, to _know_ what your bane is, just to bring you down.” She turned to face him once again, her glare now filled with the tears that steadily flowed down from her eyes. “Now tell me, Arthur, d-don’t you think it is reasonable for me to… to search for you and keep you safe?”

Arthur deeply inhaled and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was making her cry again. Slowly, then, he moved out of his desk and towards his wife. “Merlin,” he called, raising an arm. “I’m sorry.”

The queen sniffled and went towards him. He tightly wrapped his arms around hers and dropped a few kisses of comfort on top of her head. “I know what this destiny of yours speaks, and no matter how hard I try for you to ignore it, you _can’t_ ,” he sadly said. “But Camelot needs you, too, perhaps even more than _I_ need you, and I cannot compete against my people now, can I?”

“Camelot will flourish under your reign,” Merlin reminded him. “And I have to make sure that you’re alive until you are able to do so.”

Strangely, that made him chuckle. “I cannot believe we are having our first major fight as a married couple,” he said, a lilt of amusement at the tone of his voice. “It feels… _refreshing_.”

Merlin, as her answer, had hit him weakly on his chest.

Arthur thought that their conversation was finally done, and he was actually anticipating sleeping beside his wife once again (or perhaps do _more_ with her, really). He was about to pull away, but Merlin’s hold on his tightened. When he questioningly looked down at her, fear briefly flashed in her eyes before an unreadable expression took place.

“What Sir Mordred did was very brave,” she said, her voice oddly somber. “He had erred Morgana. I am sure she would not rest until she achieves her revenge. Mordred must stay… _careful_.”

He merely nodded his head, not knowing what to reply. Somehow, he could detect an underlying fear in Merlin’s voice and wondered why she was obviously trying to hide the fear she felt for Mordred’s presence in the kingdom. Arthur then wondered if Mordred has a role in their destinies that Merlin refused to disclose.

He very much wanted to coax his wife to tell him, but it had been a long day.

One day, though, he would _know_.

* * *

He was sitting on his throne when she finally found him. Arthur, who was deep in thought before she came, looked at her direction as she strode towards him. Her king already outstretched his hand, waiting until she could clutch it with her own, small one.

“How are you feeling?” Arthur said, worriedly peering at his wife. His gaze lingered at the obvious bruise on her neck, but Merlin quickly covered it with her free hand.

“I’m doing good,” she told him, complete with a reassuring smile. Arthur didn’t return her smile, however, and that made her worried. “Arthur, really, you should stop blaming yourself over what happened to me.”

This time, that made him smile, albeit a small, sad one. “My father is a wrathful man,” he said, taking in a deep breath. “I should have listened to you and Gaius about the consequences that could happen if I summoned my father from the dead.”

“You just miss your father,” she said, brushing some of his hair away from his face. “I cannot take that against you.”

His hold on her hand tightened and fear filled his eyes. “He almost killed you Merlin,” he pointed out, his voice barely audible. Merlin swallowed at his words, remembering how she was dragged around that empty corridor without seeing anyone at all but knowing that it was Uther’s spirit who was doing such acts.

Merlin sadly smiled. “I was a servant, Arthur,” she said. “Even a _banished_ one. Of course, if your father is still alive, he wouldn’t accept me.” She looked away from him as hurt filled her eyes. “Some of our people don’t accept me, too. I hear your council talk sometimes, Arthur. I hear _people_ talk so I am not even surprised your father was so keen on getting rid of me.”

He gently forced her to look into his eyes once again. “You are a _great_ queen, Merlin,” he stated with unwavering conviction. “No matter what some ignorant people say, there are those who see your capabilities and potentials. One day, they’d remember you as the greatest queen Albion had ever had.”

She chuckled at his ridiculous comment, but felt flattered nonetheless.

“I… I accept that I can never please my father now,” he continued. “I cannot thwart away my beliefs just because he doesn’t approve of them. I am my own man and you said it yourself before – a great king follows his heart.”

Arthur stood up and drew her into a hug. “I love you,” he sincerely said. “And not even the ghost of my father can change that.”

* * *

“Queen Merlin.”

She froze in shock and turned around, surprised to see that Princess Mithian had called for her attention while she was strolling towards her bedchambers. Merlin honestly thought that Mithian and her father already left Camelot and back to Nemeth, that was now theirs once more. Apparently, she thought wrong, for the princess stood opposite her, an indecipherable glint in her eyes.

“P-princess Mithian,” she greeted, silently annoyed at her slight stutter. Merlin met the eyes of the beautiful princess, and kindly smiled. “What can I do for you?”

For a moment, a flash of pain appeared in Princess Mithian’s eyes and Merlin, with a lump forming in her throat _knew_ of the feelings that Mitihan still held for her husband.

When the princess sought for Arthur’s help, despairing over the fact that her father was in danger, Merlin could see the hope and faith that the princess had for the king. And Arthur agreed, which Merlin wasn’t really surprised. Arthur had a penchant for helping those who were in need; Merlin would be aghast if Arthur refused.

It turned out that their little quest was a trap for Arthur, and Mithian kept on sending the queen messages along the way. Mithian’s maidservant, Hilda, turned out to be Morgana in disguise and the High Priestess forced Mithian to lie to the monarchs of Camelot so that she could kill them easily.

Arthur was furious with the betrayal at first, but Merlin understood.

 _“She was afraid,”_ Merlin told him soothingly, trying to calm him down. _“They have his father and their kingdom, Arthur. Mithian was just afraid.”_

With their oppressors defeated and Morgana once again on the run, Mithian was forgiven by Arthur and he bestowed upon them the kingdom that was rightfully theirs. King Rodor promised that this day would never be forgotten in the history of Nemeth, and he also promised an everlasting peace between the two kingdoms. Arthur appreciated this and Merlin, prideful, knew Arthur was slowly stepping towards his destiny of uniting all the kingdoms for a better Albion.

“Thank you for helping my father and me,” Mithian then said, breaking Merlin off her reverie. “I… I’ve placed the king’s life in danger, but you still forgave us and gave us back our kingdom.” Mithian, to Merlin’s utmost surprise, deeply bowed in gratitude. “We are forever indebted to you and the king.”

Flustered, Merlin shuffled closer to the princess and urged her to straighten herself. “No, no, really,” she blabbered, her cheeks now a lovely shade of red. “We only do what we think is right.”

Mithian smiled and nodded her head. “I foresee a better Camelot now that she has two, great royals ruling over her,” she stated sincerely, and Merlin couldn’t help but feel moved by her words.

“I am sure we have allies like you who will stay by our side unwaveringly,” Merlin said, prompting for Mithian’s smile to widen. “Camelot, Arthur, and I cannot battle against those who threaten to destroy us without the aid of our friends.”

For a moment, Mithian merely openly stared at Merlin. The queen felt conscious under her intent gaze, but then, to her surprise, Mithian placed a smooth hand on her calloused one. “Arthur chose a wonderful queen,” Mithian whispered. “I am glad that it is you who trumped a princess.”

At loss of what to say, Merlin whispered a soft, “I’m sorry.” She felt guilty for being partially the reason why Mithian wasn’t able to achieve her happily ever after with Arthur. She still vividly remembered the days when Princess Mithian visited Camelot and she was still the betrothed of the king. Despite her heart breaking, Merlin could see that Mithian’s feelings for Arthur were genuine, and the heartbreak that she had to endure caused her a lot of tears and grief.

“You mustn’t apologize,” Mithian said, the smile never leaving her face. “After all, I cannot compete with Arthur’s true love.”

Merlin’s cheeks considerably grew warmer. “One day,” she softly spoke, “one day you will find that one man who will mean the world to you, too.”

Hope sparkled in Mithian’s eyes and she earnestly nodded her head.

The princess then bid her goodbye and she was left standing in the corridor, staring at Mithian’s back in sorrow and wonder.

“I was starting to think you’ve been kidnapped or something,” Arthur’s voice called. Merlin rolled her eyes and grinned, turning around to see her husband waiting impatiently in front of their bedchambers, his arms tightly crossed against his chest.

“Impatient, aren’t we?” she teased, sauntering towards him. Arthur easily wound his arm around her waist and pulled her inside the room. She giggled when he placed a kiss on a particularly sensitive spot on her neck.

“It had been a long day,” Arthur pointed out, quickly locking their door.

Merlin grinned and intertwined her fingers with his. “Indeed, it was,” she said.

* * *

His wife wasn’t the same ever since they confronted the Disir, and Arthur knew it was his entire fault.

A choice had been demanded – accept magic back in Camelot or _not_. Although he fully accepted the fact that his wife was magical, and was born with it, bringing magic back in Camelot was a wary business to the king. Not every sorcerers and sorceresses were the same as Merlin. There were those who wished to bring harm to others and who were even willing to kill anyone who stood in their way.

Arthur had not given his decision yet, and for the following days, his life was in a complicated mess. He realized what he was thrust into, what grave decision he should make, and he had no idea what to do. One of his finest knights, Sir Mordred, was severely injured and letting him die would be such a waste to Camelot. The boy showed amazing potential and capability to be one of the best knights in Albion. Arthur didn’t want to be the reason for Mordred’s death.

Merlin hadn’t been exactly helpful with this ordeal. In fact, Arthur suspected that she was _avoiding_ him, and it frustrated him so. She didn’t understand that choosing was such a difficult task. Ever since he was young, he believed that magic was _evil_. He met her, of course, and fell in love with her and made her his queen. But that did not mean that everything he believed when he was younger was _gone_.

“What must I do?” Arthur finally asked one night when they were getting ready to sleep. He felt her freeze beside him, and Arthur patiently waited. This was a particularly sensitive topic to his wife. He knew of her desire to practice magic freely and he knew that above all else, this was something she had coveted the most.

“I-I’m not really sure I can answer your question, Arthur,” Merlin murmured in their dark room. “I think it is best if you just sleep. It had been a long day.”

Arthur sighed through his nose, already feeling frustrated. “Why are you avoiding this topic, Merlin?” he said, voice thick with annoyance. “I’m asking for your opinion, and it is best if you answer me properly.”

She was silent for a while, and Arthur wondered if she had blocked whatever noise he made and just went to sleep.

“Because I’m scared of what you’d decide in the end,” she whispered. In their dark bedchambers, he could hear her tears and he swallowed.

He didn’t raise up this question anymore until on the day he was to confront the Disir once again. Merlin, who still wasn’t properly talking to him, decided to come with him on that day. Arthur very much wanted to forbid her from doing so, but he knew it was her he wanted to be beside with once he spoke his decision to the Disir.

Before coming inside the cave, he left all the weapons he brought on the ground. Keeping his wife beside him, they finally strode inside until they came upon the Disir. They still were as menacing as before. Their mere presence brought shivers down his spine and although he wasn’t a person of magic, Arthur knew that they were _powerful_.

“Have you made your decision, Arthur Pendragon?” the three boomed in unison, and Arthur earnestly nodded his head.

“I’ve contemplated for days, and I came up with my decision,” he said. Beside him, Merlin stiffened. “I… I realized that perhaps magic isn’t evil itself, but is just a vessel to bring harm to others. I’ve witnessed magic wielded for evil, but at the same time, I’ve witnessed magic wielded for _good_.” Briefly, he looked at his wife, who was reduced to silence. “I-I cannot deny the fear that I have of bringing magic back to Camelot, but perhaps… _perhaps_ , my kingdom will be a better place if I bring it back once more.”

Merlin gasped and she stared at him, wide-eyed. Arthur refused to meet her eyes and instead looked at the Disir.

“You made your decision” –

\- “And now the stars have decided” –

\- “Your fate is sealed, Arthur Pendragon” –

\- “And now you must return to Camelot and keep your promise.” They exclaimed the last part in unison, the cave almost shaking with their voices. 

Later that day, Arthur and Merlin returned. His queen had been silent all throughout the journey, and Arthur had no idea how to approach her. 

He had said it – he’d revoke the law prohibiting magic – and although he knew his father would be a million times wrathful, Arthur couldn’t deny the relief that he had felt.

Really, Merlin was still partially to blame with his decision. He told it to Gwaine once – he’d do _anything_ for her.

The next day, the law was rebuked, and to say that the council and the whole kingdom were astonished was an understatement. All the protests that he received all fell into deaf ears and Arthur knew it would be best to be scarce for the following days. There were people who believed and followed his father’s ideology before. Once he retracted the law, there would be a _great_ change in Camelot indeed. 

Sir Mordred, as promised by the Disir, was well, and Arthur couldn’t help but notice the new twinkling in his eyes, especially on the days after his declaration.

“Why did you do it?” Merlin asked him one, cold night. She was huddled at her side on their bed, her back facing him.

Arthur sighed and shifted a little closer to her. She felt a little warm and honestly, he was _cold_. “I did what I thought was right,” he murmured to her. He stretched out his arm and reached for her shoulder. That was when he discovered she was _trembling_. “Merlin?”

With just a speed of light, Merlin was suddenly bestowing him salty kisses on his face, her hands roaming all over his body and Arthur just felt so, _so_ lightheaded.

He held her cheeks to stop her pleasant assault and stared at her tearstained face in amusement. “Why are you crying?” he asked, fondly wiping her tears away.

She grinned beautifully despite her tears. “I feel… I feel _free_ ,” she whispered, leaning closer to him. Her lips tenderly brushed against his, and Arthur felt his heart swelling with love. All the worries he felt for the coming days because of his revocation all dissipated into thin air.

He did this because he thought it was the right thing.

He did this because he loved Merlin too much.

“Thank you, Arthur Pendragon,” she whispered and for the rest of the night, she showed her gratitude to him.

* * *

Arthur swallowed a growing lump in his throat as he blindly followed the knights. Beside him, he could hear Gwen’s guttural sobs and he tried to desperately block them away, but failed miserably in the end. Merlin seemed too drained to shed some tears.

In front of him were the Knights of the Round Table, somberly carrying the body of Sir Elyan, as they bring their heroic friend to his burial.

The king’s hands tightened into fists, remembering who had caused such turmoil in his council, and a promise of vengeance grew in his heart.

Weeks ago, Merlin suddenly disappeared from Camelot without any trace. Merlin was to go to Ealdor to visit her aging mother. Although she was already queen and Hunith could live with them in Camelot, Merlin’s mother chose to stay in Ealdor instead because it was her home. Merlin didn’t argue with this anymore and promised to visit once in a while.

Arthur was unable to come with her due to his piling amount of responsibilities. Hence, he appointed his strongest knights, Leon, Elyan, Gwaine, and Percival, to accompany their queen. Arthur trusted his life to the knights he now considered as his friends, and he knew they would guard the queen with their life, too.

Imagine his despair when the knights returned, with Percival and Leon severely ill and with Merlin not with them at all.

 _“We were attacked by Morgana, sire,”_ Elyan gravely reported. _“And she took the queen with her.”_

For days he was in distress. Arthur grew restless and before even dawn arrived, they were already set into a quest to find Queen Merlin.

Along the way, Arthur had no absolutely idea where to go. Combined with his restless heart, he couldn’t think properly. All that was in his head were images of his wife tortured and worse,  _dead,_ and he couldn’t shake off the feeling of foreboding in his heart.

Just when he thought that all hope was lost, Percival and Leon, who both recovered from their illness, woke up with the same nightmare – they both saw The Dark Tower, a place feared by knights because no one came back after venturing into it. Arthur, though, asked for his knights to accompany him to the tower because he suspected that his wife was there.

They arrived and Arthur knew it was _too_ easy. The tower was infamously known for its strange magic, and as his knights scoured to find their queen, Arthur feared that they were too late.

They had set off numerous traps and some of them were wounded. Sir Leon took an arrow to his arm and Arthur would have a sword on his head if Gwaine hadn’t pushed him away on time.

Sir Elyan broke away from the group for a while, until Arthur and the others heard familiar screams. They came upon a room, with a distressed Merlin warning Sir Elyan, who was fighting against a charmed, hovering sword. Elyan fought valiantly, but he couldn’t defeat the magical sword. In the end, he was stabbed and the sword dropped on the uneven floor, immobile.

They all went back, without any trace of Morgana. Elyan, unfortunately, wasn’t able to make it and had died along the journey. Gaius tried to inquire Merlin about what had happened back in the Dark Tower, but the queen was still emotionally unstable.

“Sire,” Sir Mordred said, giving Arthur a bow with a flaming arrow. As the knights placed Elyan on the ceremonial boat, Arthur aimed the arrow at Elyan’s boat. Once he was considerably away from the shore, he released the string and the flaming arrow came hurtling towards the boat. It ignited into flames and all somberly watched as they remembered the death of a noble knight.

* * *

A knock from their door broke Arthur off from his concentration and he quizzically looked at the wooden door. He shot a brief glance at his slumbering queen, before rising up from his desk and striding towards the door. Opening it, he was surprised to see a grave Sir Mordred.

“You must come with me, sire,” his knight urged. Arthur quickly darted a glance at Merlin again, before nodding his head and striding outside.

“What is it?” Arthur asked, but Mordred shook his head. He seemed determine to show it to Arthur instead; hence, the king allowed him.

As they walked through the dark corridors, Arthur nervously looked at the knight beside him.

He should have expected that after the revocation of the prohibition of magic, many would take a step forward to reveal that they were persons of magic. What surprised him the most was the fact that Sir Mordred was a young sorcerer himself. Merlin didn’t seem quite surprised with this information; in fact, she seemed like she had known it all along.

With magic now accepted, Arthur thought that Camelot had changed. This brought about slight awkwardness within his people, but at the same time, relief from those who had been hiding for ages. Although he was still miffed with how people freely used magic for the first few weeks of his revocation, now, he could look at sorcerers and sorceresses without batting an eye. Arthur thought he was getting better now.

Mordred led him to the dungeons, and Arthur had an inkling as to where he was brining him. His suspicions were only confirmed once they stood at the prison cell of Tyr, his stablehand. Upon seeing that his majesty visited him, the servant bolted towards the prison cell, his wide, fearful eyes already filled with tears.

“P-please, sire, spare me,” he beseeched. “I was only doing my work, I swear. And I’ve never wished for harm to come upon you.”

Arthur believed him. Gods, he really did, but the evidences pointed to him, and he was helpless about it.

To his surprise, Mordred strode forward and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You were framed, weren’t you?” he demanded. Tyr nervously shifted his gaze away from the knight. “Tell us and you’d be spared.”

More tears filled in Tyr’s eyes and he vigorously shook his head. “I-if I tell you, s-she’ll kill my mother,” he blubbered out.

“She?” Arthur asked, knitting his eyebrows. Pursing his lips, he glared darkly at no one. “Morgana.”

But Tyr shook his head and his tears increased. “I-I c-can’t tell you,” he sobbed, hiding his face away from them. “I-I can’t.”

“What is it that you know?” Arthur demand, now frustrated and angry. “Tell me or I _swear_ \- ”

Mordred placed a hand on Arthur’s arm and pulled him away. “Sire, he is afraid,” he muttered, and Arthur tried his best to control his anger.

Impatiently, but silently, he waited.

“I-I was held up in the stables last night because one of the horses was suffering from colic,” Tyr sputtered out after a few minutes. “I-I saw someone messing up with the King’s horse and I confronted her, but she threatened to kill my m-mother and I didn’t know what to do.”

Arthur’s heart froze, believing that there was a traitor amidst them. “Who is she?” he demanded. “Who is this person that wishes me dead?”

But Tyr merely shook his head again, and Arthur grew frustrated.

“He is distressed,” Mordred said, expelling a soft sigh. “Maybe it is best if we continue interrogating him tomorrow.”

Arthur gave Tyr a wary glance before nodding his head. Both he and Mordred then left the dungeons in uncomfortable silence. The implications of a betrayal sat heavily atop their heads and Arthur was at loss of what to do.

“Why did you bring me to the dungeons to speak to the boy?” Arthur then inquired after a few minutes of silence. He darted Mordred a quick glance and saw the unreadable expression on the knight’s face.

“I suspected it wasn’t his fault,” Mordred explained. “And I fear that if he is to be executed tomorrow, you’d still continue being in danger, Arthur.”

The king took a deep breath and ran an exhausted hand through Arthur’s face. “You are a good knight, Sir Mordred,” he complimented, prompting for the knight to smile.

“I promised to ensure your safety, Arthur,” he said. “You did not need to thank me.” Mordred then bowed down and turned around, leaving a bemused Arthur staring at his retreating back.

* * *

Mordred stared at the scene unfolding before his eyes, especially at the wounded boy on the ground.

“Daegal!” he hissed, scrambling onto his knees to look at the suffering boy. “What have you done?”

The boy shakily smiled, his clutch on his bleeding wound tightening. “I-I finally did something right, didn’t I?” he asked, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes. He took a deep, shuddering breath and tightly held his eyes shut in pain. “I-I p-proved myself worthy in the end.” Tears now leaked down from his eyes and he sadly grinned. “I deserved to d-die from all of the things I’ve done. B-but I’m happy that I was able to do something good in the end.”

Mordred sadly looked at his injury, his hand hovering above it. “I can heal you,” he offered, but Daegal lifted a bloodied hand and held Mordred’s hovering hand, shaking his head in the process.

“No, I’ll be fine,” he croaked, his voice growing weaker. “Y-you must protect your king.”

Daegal stared at Mordred one last time, before unconsciousness consumed him and soon, the poor, heroic boy was dead. Mordred ran his hand through the boy’s eyes to close them, before climbing up to his feet and strolling towards one of the balconies. Gazing down, he could see the bewildered faces of the council as they stared at the dead body of Sarrum. If it weren’t for Mordred and Daegal, Arthur would have been dead right now.

From his place, Arthur lifted his eyes and met Mordred’s gaze. There was a silent demand to know the truth from him and Mordred, with a sigh, knew that the king wouldn’t rest until he acquired the answers.

Later that night, Arthur met Mordred in the most secluded part of the forest. Arthur, at first, suggested that they talk in his bedchamber because it was the safest. Mordred, with a wry smile on his face, shook his head no. Despite how ironic it may sound, the royals’ bedchamber was the least safest place in the whole kingdom.

“You know something I don’t,” Arthur pointed out, crossing his arms as he paced to and fro. Mordred opted to stand still and warily watched the restless king. “What is it? Gods, you must tell me. Stranger things have been happening in Camelot these past few days. There were a lot of death attempts to me and although it should have been a natural occurrence, I am starting to become alarmed.”

Mordred pursed his lips and took a deep breath. “What I tell you might break your heart, sire,” he gravely said.

Arthur stopped pacing and fully turned to stare at him. His eyebrows were knitted deeply and worry flitted on his face. “Whatever do you mean?” he asked.

“I-I observe things,” Mordred said, clenching his hands into tight fists. “I’ve _noticed_ things these past few days and one thing that is alarmingly unsettling to me was the fact that your queen is acting strangely. _Or_ , at least acting like she isn’t in her right state of mind.”

The knight was surprised when Arthur didn’t look astonished at all. In fact, he looked fearful and resigned, his shoulders slumping in exhaustion and defeat. “I was hoping nobody would notice,” he said, a wry smile blooming on his face. “But my queen is acting more and more suspicious as the days passed by. I’m starting to grow worried.”

“Perhaps, it isn’t her will she is following,” Mordred offered. “Despite having spent time here in Camelot for less than a year, one thing I truly understand is that Queen Merlin is someone of a kind and pure heart. I suspect that… _well_ , she is under a spell. A powerful one, dare I say it.”

Arthur seemed like to instantly be drained for all the energy that was left in him. He wobbled towards a fallen log and plopped down on it, his exhaustion screaming in every inch of his body. “I’ve suspected that Morgana had done something to her while holding my wife captive in the Dark Tower.” He imploringly looked at Mordred. “What must we do?”

Hesitantly, the knight stepped forward and nervously swallowed. Although the king had revoked the law prohibiting the usage of magic in Camelot, Mordred was still wary in broaching about that particular subject to him. Mordred had revealed he was a Druid, of course, and had random bouts of magic here and there. But he was so used in hiding and living in fear. It should be understandable that although he felt free, there was a part of him that feared that this might only be a ploy for Arthur to discover who were all the persons of magic, gather them, and kill them all together.

The only thing that made him firmly believe that Arthur was sincere of his revocation was that the queen herself was a person of magic. Arthur didn’t seem to fully understand the greatness that was prophesized for Merlin, or _Emrys_ , but Mordred did. As a young boy, he heard a lot of stories about her, stories of wonder and amazement, and the promise that through her, magic would be welcomed once again.

He met her once when he was young, and his heart already grew comfortable around her. He suspected her hesitancy to help him in the end, but her kindness won, and he was able to flee away from Camelot.

Now that he was a knight to Arthur, Mordred had seen her at times and he could see that she was _wary_ of him. Which he really thought was understandable, because the druid knew of his destiny with Arthur, and in that destiny, he was Arthur’s doom.

Mordred shook with silent rage, his hands curling tightly into a fist. He didn’t want to cause the downfall of Albion’s greatest king. He had seen Arthur, he had seen how he struggled to do the right thing, even revoking a law that had an important part in Camelot’s history. Mordred believed that Arthur would do wonders to the kingdom and killing him would be a very dishonourable destiny.

When he was young, the druids spoke of destinies and fates and one thing that stood startlingly clear for Mordred was the fact that although destiny’s call would be the loudest, most powerful call a person could hear, a person with a steadfast heart could still be able to defy it.

Mordred refused to kill Arthur when the time comes, and he swore to protect the king instead, believing that his destiny was to stay by Arthur’s side, even Merlin’s, and serve them with unwavering faith and loyalty.

That was why he was doing this. That was why he was helping Arthur, because he knew the king would be lost without his queen.

“I’ve talked to the Dochraid,” Mordred softly started. When Arthur questioningly looked at him, the young knight sighed. “She is a knowledgeable person of the Old Religion and I believed she would provide the answers to our questions. She didn’t fail me.” Mordred briefly pursed his lips once Arthur’s attention was solely on him. “Merlin’s body is nothing but an empty vessel filled with Morgana’s will.”

Arthur took a deep, shuddering breath. “H-how can we free her?” he asked, his voice shaky from the revelation.

“There is such a placed called the Cauldron of Arianrhood,” Mordred continued. “Queen Merlin must willingly enter the lake for her to be freed from the curse. If she were forced, beguiled, or tricked, she will fall into the abyss and be lost forever.”

Arthur, at first, replied silence to Mordred’s words. Mordred allowed him, knowing that it was something huge to take in. Their task to bring the old Merlin back was startlingly huge, and they knew it would take a huge amount of effort and determination to bring her back.

“Thank you, Mordred, I…” The words died down from Arthur’s face as he directed his shining eyes at the druid. Mordred was struck with the vulnerability in Arthur’s eyes and he knew, right there and then, that his unwavering love for the powerful sorceress could get her back.

Briefly, the images of his prophecy regarding Arthur Pendragon flashed before his eyes.

Mordred stiffened, silent determination radiating in his body.

He would defy whatever destiny he has with Arthur. In fact, he would change it, with all the power that he had even if it caused his life.

* * *

Hatred.

That was the only, single emotion coursing through her veins and as Merlin woke up, surprised to see her bastard husband and a curious Mordred hovering above her form, she knew that they had _tricked_ her.

The queen quickly scrambled onto her feet and darkly glared at Arthur. He was looking at her with that disgusting sympathy and love he seemed to hold for her. “Merlin…” he called, reaching for her arms. Before she could even squirm away, she was trapped tightly in between his hands.

“Let me go,” she exclaimed, her skin crawling by his mere touch. _She hates him, she hates him, she hates him_ were the only things running through her mind. That, and the fact that she was supposed to kill him for all the awful things he had done to her and her kind.

“Merlin, listen to me!” he implored, shaking her vigorously. “You are under Morgana’s spell. You are being _bewitched_ by her so that you can kill me in her stead.”

Merlin saw red at his accusations. “ _How dare you_ ,” she spat venomously. A sudden bout of magic burst out of her system and Mordred, the closest thing to Arthur, was the unfortunate receiver of her accidental magic. Mordred was thrown into the air, landing with a mighty thud a few meters away from them. He was knocked unconscious by the impact, and Merlin could feel a smug smile growing on her face.

“I love you,” Arthur declared, now clutching both of her hands. “And you love me, too, that is why you are going to willingly go into the lake to be free from the curse.”

She vigorously shook her head and glared at him darkly. “Everything I’ve shown you, everything _we’ve_ done, it is but a mere fantasy, Arthur. An illusion to trick you so that I can kill you. A plan that I’ve devised with Morgana and” –

But he didn’t allow her to finish because he sagged against her in plea, and something inside her heart stirred in recognition. She had seen him in this state countless times before and Merlin was reduced to silence. 

“Remember when I asked you to marry me?” Arthur softly murmured, lifting up his head to direct his glossy eyes into her hateful ones. “I told you that I’d give up everything I have just to be with you. And remember what you answered? You said you’d do the same for me, Merlin. No trickery, no fantasy.”

He completely released his hold from her and took a step back, his eyes unwaveringly holding her gaze.

Tears blurred her vision, watching as Arthur slowly entered into the water. Memories of their past flashed through her mind’s eye, and she was confused.

 _So confused_.

Slowly, her legs dragged her towards him, her heart already bursting with emotions. “I’d do the same for you,” she  whispered as she finally entered into the waters. White light engulfed her body and instantly, her mind was cleared. That constant niggling at the back of her head, that constant presence that urged her to kill Arthur, all disappeared into the water and as the white light disappeared, all she could see was her husband, her king, her _Arthur_ , smiling lovingly at her.

She reached for his hand and he tightly clutched hers. He drew her into a hug, relieved that she was back.

She, Arthur, and a revived Mordred all returned to Camelot after their successful quest. Merlin was greeted warmly by Gaius and Gwen, who both knew of her enchantment.

Before she went to sleep for that day, though, Merlin sought for Mordred. She found him in the armoury, cleaning his sword, and when she entered, he abruptly stood up and bowed down.

“Why did you do it?” she blurted out, unable to contain her curiosity any longer. “Why did you help me and Arthur?”

Mordred smiled and straightened up. “I know that you are aware of the destiny I have with Arthur,” he said. Unwittingly, she stiffened at his words. “But through this, I wanted to prove myself loyal to your king.” The knight took a deep breath, his eyes softening as they met hers. “I can… I can see what Arthur can do to Camelot and I do not want to be the cause of his downfall. I _want_ to change my destiny, Emrys. Believe me when I say that I desperately do. That is why I need your help. Help me not to waver from the right path; help me not to lose sight of who I want to become. The moment I came back to Camelot, your heart had never rested since but please, just this once, _believe_ me.”

She stared at him for a while, wonder filling her eyes. The Old Religion spoke of his inevitable destiny with her husband, and true, she had been wary of him ever since. But when she walked forward and drew the druid boy into a hug, the same scared, druid boy they had helped before, she could _feel_ his sincerity.

“I will help you,” she finally said, running a comforting hand through his back. If it meant saving two, great people, then she’d do everything in her power to save the _both_ of them, even if it costs her life.

* * *

When he entered their bedchambers, she was seated on her chair in front of her boudoir, thoughtfully combing her curly, dark hair.

Arthur released a soft breath in relief, knowing that she was safe.

A few days ago, she spoke of this Druid, old woman named Finna, who spoke to her about the great prophecy. Merlin was drawn to her promise of the truth, and she insisted that this Finna would provide her all the answers that she wished to receive. It wasn’t until she disappeared for a few days when Arthur discovered where she had been.

Enraged by her mindlessness, he sent for a search party, intent on finding his wife. Arthur reckoned she had put herself in danger far too many times, and once he found her, he would give her a lifetime of reprimand.

They found her three days after, dishevelled and tired, but nonetheless well. She had the remnants of a wound, but she was _well_. All the reprimand that sat at the tip of his tongue disappeared upon gazing at his wife. Before he could even inquire her where she had been, Merlin became unconscious and Arthur brought her back to Camelot.

“Will you now tell me what stupidity you had done a few days ago?” Arthur entered, tightly crossing his arms. He saw how Merlin stiffened and slowly turned around to gaze at him.

“I’m sorry for causing you worry, my king,” she whispered, and Arthur found himself deflating soon. He could never really stay mad at her for a long time, and that was very much unfair to him.

“Why did you follow her?” Arthur then asked, sauntering closer to her. “Gaius told me that the Druid old woman is mysterious. What if she is working under Morgana?”

Merlin shook her head and smiled. “She’s not, and she delivered a message most peculiar,” she said, the smile now faltering. When he continued to questioningly look at her, Merlin continued, “You do know that I have knowledge of your destiny, Arthur, and I’ve withheld it from you ever since.”

He slowly nodded his head, intently listening to her words.

His wife looked away from his gaze and thickly swallowed. “Mordred…” she started. Arthur’s back straightened at the mention of his name. “Mordred was destined to kill you, Arthur, you know.”

His eyes widened in sheer disbelief. He remembered his loyal, kind knight and for the life of him, he couldn’t _believe_ her words.

“I know it is hard to digest, but that is the truth,” she continued, running a frustrated hand through her lovely hair. “And I’ve tried to protect you from him for weeks, Arthur, but your knight” – a small smile bloomed on her face – “he proved to be the most loyal knight you had. He is also aware of his destiny, but he asked me to help him choose another path, and I’ve sworn to aid him ever since.”

“What are you trying to say?” Arthur asked, now walking closer to his wife.

“Finna,” she started, a strange look settling on her face, “Finna changed a few of the things I’ve believed for years. She delivered a message, one stating your future, and then, there was… _hope_. For both you and Mordred.”

Arthur’s heart soared with her words. “What did she say?” he softly asked.

“That in the land of Camlann, a great battle will unravel,” Merlin softly said, staring at her hands in deep thought. “That in the land of Camlann, the call of destiny will be at its weakest. That in the land of Camlann, the future will only be defined through the actions that will be done by those involved.” She gave him a tearful smile, relief flooding on her face. “She never spoke of the inevitable confrontation between you and Mordred, Arthur, and I _firmly_ believed that this is an indication that both of you will be spared from whatever intertwined destiny you have.”

Arthur grinned jovially. “That is good to hear,” he said, not really knowing what to say. His heart was bursting with too much joy to properly think of the right words to reply.

Apparently, though, Merlin wasn’t done.

“While following Finna, I was greatly wounded,” she continued. The smile on his face faltered, but strangely, Merlin seemed _too_ happy to notice. “Kilgharrah cured me and gave me a startlingly news, Arthur.” He was still strangely looking at her as she slowly placed a hand on her stomach, her eyes now shining with tears. “I am carrying your child, Arthur. For a few weeks now, and Kilgharrah spoke of a great future for your heir.”

His world seemed to stop at her revelation. Strangely, everything around him turned hazy, and that was when he realized that his eyes filled with _tears_ with her news.

Arthur slowly approached her and fell onto his knees once he was in front of her. With adoring eyes, she stared down at him, and more tears escaped from Arthur’s eyes.

“A child,” he whispered breathlessly, lifting a hand and placing it against her stomach. It was still small and unnoticeable, and Arthur wondered what it would look like once Merlin’s stomach was showing.

“Yes, a child,” Merlin replied, bending down to place a kiss on his forehead.

Arthur was brought onto his feet, bringing Merlin into his arms. He crushed her against his chest, careful not to squeeze her too tight, and bestowed kisses on her face.

She giggled, but allowed him to, understanding the emotions he must be feeling.

“I promise to build a better Camelot for our child,” he murmured, finally capturing her lips. Against him, Merlin’s mouth lifted into a small smile, a silent agreement to his promise.

* * *

“If we do not free the Druid girl, Mordred will not be saved anymore,” Merlin murmured, and Arthur’s heart sank, knowing that she spoke the truth.

A few days ago, they came upon a helpless, Druid girl named Kara. Arthur was intent on saving her, clothing her and feeding her if it was even necessary, and they all believed that it was what Kara wanted. But then, to the surprise of everyone, the Druid girl lunged towards the king and almost killed him.

She had killed a few innocent souls along the way, and Arthur had no choice but to sentence her to death.

 _“Repent, and I will spare you,”_ he ordered one time, but the girl, proud and pompous, refused, saying that she would not bow down under a ruthless king.

 _“Revoking the law must have made you proud, great king,”_ she spat, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. _“But that doesn’t erase all the inhumane things you have done to our kind.”_

Tomorrow, she was sentenced to death, and Arthur was so, _so_ torn. He discovered from his wife how this girl held a special place in Mordred’s heart. His knight had begged him to spare her a few hours ago, stating about her naivety and ignorance, and through this whole ordeal, Arthur could see how Mordred desperately loved the girl, even though she absolutely didn’t deserve him.

“The law is the law, Merlin,” Arthur pointed out, a tone of finality in his voice. “I cannot do anything about it.”

The truth was, his lack of alarm already spoke volumes to Merlin and she knew what he was trying to help her. He expected disappointment in her eyes when he told her about the truth, but she must have seen something in his eyes for she serenely smiled and curtsied, surprisingly dropping the subject with perfect ease.

That night, Arthur made it a point not to move when he heard Merlin leave his room. When the bells rang, signalling the escape of a prisoner, he merely sat on his bed, immobile. Even when some of his knights rushed inside and told him about the escape of Kara, Arthur merely stared at them and nodded his head, telling them they shouldn’t waste their time anymore. Although the knights answered his words with sheer disbelief, they followed their king.

The next day, everything seemed as if nothing out of the ordinary happened. Merlin had a certain bounce in her steps, her hand constantly gravitating down to her still-small stomach.

He had encountered Mordred soon, and there was silent gratitude in his eyes. “Good morning, sire,” he greeted, bowing down in respect, and Arthur smiled, knowing he had spared the poor boy from a broken heart.

Perhaps, he would be able to save Kara wherever she was right now. Mordred was a good man, and his pure heart could reach out to those whom he loved the most.

“Good morning, Sir Mordred,” he greeted, strolling away from his grateful knight, knowing that he had done the right thing after all.

* * *

“Do not follow me tomorrow.”

It wasn’t order, but a silent request, and Merlin could hear the plea in his voice.

She rolled around on their bed, her body still sore from their act of love a few minutes ago. Arthur, whose face was glowing under the moonlight, was staring at her in sheer determination. There was a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead and Merlin reached out, gingerly wiping them away.

“You should have learned your lesson, Arthur,” she admonished, a small smile appearing on her face. “I do not listen to you, remember?”

He caught her hand and held it tight against his bare chest. “Merlin, I am not jesting around,” he sternly said, and she deflated, because she knew that no amount of cajoling could lighten the feeling of foreboding. Tomorrow, the Knights of Camelot were set to travel to the Land of Camlann, and even though they did not voice it aloud to each other, both the monarchs of Camelot were terrified of what tomorrow would bring to their lives.

“I’m coming with you,” she harshly said, her eyes already shining with tears. “And Morgana might have taken my magic, but I am coming with you.”

The thought that her magic was stolen from her still terrified her. Morgana finally knew she was Emrys and Emrys was her, having had a spy planted in Camelot. Gaius told her of the Crystal Cave where magic had been born and suggested that if she wished for her magic to return, then it was the best place to go. She planned to go there first thing in the morning while Arthur and his knights journeyed to Camlann. And then, she would follow them and help them defeat the High Priestess once and for all.

Arthur’s free hand travelled down to her bare abdomen, his touch warm and soothing at the same time. He absentmindedly started rubbing her stomach, the fear in his eyes already speaking volumes. “You’re with a child,” he murmured. “It will be dangerous for the both of you.”

She adamantly shook her head. “I’m still coming with you,” she harshly said. “And _you_ cannot stop me.” Tears filled her eyes because she was _terrified_ , for her, for Arthur, for her _son_ , and she knew that if she didn’t do anything, more danger would fall upon them. She had talked to Mordred a few days ago, and the knight promised a steadfast protection to their king. And she was so grateful to Mordred, because she knew she could trust him. She just wished that his constant presence with Arthur would keep her husband alive while she journeyed to the Crystal Cave to reclaim her magic.

Arthur dropped the subject and instead gave her a kiss, and Merlin couldn’t shake off the fact that he was _saying goodbye_.

The next day, he was gone, and Merlin swore so loud because it was almost noon and she hadn’t gone to the Crystal Cave. Arthur and his knights were most probably already halfway to Camlann, and Merlin’s heart filled with dread.

Gaius greeted her, softly telling her that Arthur ordered for him to keep her inside, but both of them knew that Merlin would still do _everything_ just to go to the Crystal Cave. Thus, Gaius reluctantly let her go, watching with sad eyes as the queen travelled to get her magic back.

By the time she arrived, she was utterly exhausted. Being pregnant for four months already tired her so.

“I’m sorry, my love,” she whispered, placing a comforting hand on her stomach. “But your daddy needs our help, okay? We must stay strong together so that he can still see you once you arrive in this world.”

It didn’t surprise her that Morgana was waiting. “Hello, Emrys,” she greeted, her voice harsh and biting. Merlin hugged her abdomen, a sign of protecting herself and her child. Morgana didn’t know that she was pregnant, and Merlin feared of what she would do if she knew.

 LMorgana trapped her inside, and Merlin helplessly looked around. Tears already steadily went down to her face, and she didn’t know what to do. Arthur and his knights might already be in Camlann and here was she, vulnerable and weak.

“Merlin.”

The voice startled her, especially because she _knew_ that voice. Weakly turning around, she beheld the spirit of her father, and more tears escaped from her eyes.

“Are my eyes deceiving me?” she breathlessly asked, lifting a hand to touch Balinor. But all she touched was air, and her father sadly smiled.

“I am but a spirit, here to help my child,” he said, his eyes filling with warmth.

“I… I’m trying my best, but m-my magic doesn’t return,” she sobbed, tiredly wiping her tears away. She was so _exhausted_ and she just wanted to rest. She feared that her exhaustion would cause drastic consequences to herself and her child. If in the end her son would be taken away from her, then she didn’t know what to do.

Balinor smiled and sauntered closer to his daughter. “My child, you must have faith,” he said. “You are born to be the greatest sorceress everybody would have known. That is your destiny and not a mere, fickle enchantment could take that away from you. Close your eyes, summon your magic, and I promise to you it will not fail you.”

Her father was then gone, and Merlin warily looked around. _‘Close your eyes,’_ a voice whispered, and she obeyed. Taking in a deep breath, she summoned her magic, summoned the part of her that was harshly ripped away from her. And then, she could feel every nerve in her body, every cell tingling with power and she knew she had it back.

Blasting away the rocks that had trapped her, Merlin went to Camlann to help.

With a silent prayer to anyone who could hear her, she wished she wasn’t too late.

* * *

He was stabbed by a magical sword, and Merlin helplessly cried over his form. Mordred had been wounded, too, unable to help his king when Morgana effortlessly eased a sword against his arm. The wound was deep and sickly, and Arthur was growing sallow.

She had summoned Kilgharrah and he brought them on the banks of the Lake of Avalon. Up ahead was a small isle, said to heal any wound that was inflicted, whether mortal or magical, and Merlin was determined to heal her husband.

Along the way, they were confronted by Morgana, and enraged with how things ended, Merlin killed her instantly. Despite her power, Morgana was still no match against her.

“Mer… lin,” Arthur gasped, raising a hand to wipe away the tears steadily streaming down from her eyes. “Y-you mustn’t… cry.”

Her tears turned earnest and she hugged him to herself. “No, no, you _will_ not die,” she frantically exclaimed. “I forbid you to die, Arthur Pendragon.”

He weakly chuckled, followed by coughs that racked his body. Slowly then, he removed his ring that bore the seal of the Pendragon House, and offered it to his wife. Merlin, knowing what this meant, desperately shook her head and refused to accept the seal.

“You will not die,” she shakily exclaimed, but Arthur merely smiled.

“Even when you are stubborn you…” His words died down as pain flashed before his eyes. He briefly shut his eyes before opening them once again, still staring at his queen adoringly. “You are still quite beautiful, do you know that?”

He clutched one of her hands and kissed her knuckles. “I love you,” he whispered. “Always remember that, my queen. I…I’m sorry I will not be able to witness the growth of our son.”

“KILGHARRAH!” Merlin screamed, and the great dragon swooped down with her command. Beseechingly, she stared at the dragon. “Bring us to the center of the lake, _please_ , before I run out of time.”

“Arthur is destined to live a short life,” he whispered in sorrow. “One cannot change that.”

Harshly, she stood up and darkly glared at the dragon. “ _Mordred_ was destined to kill Arthur, wasn’t he? But look at what happened – he _is_ still loyal to us. He just embodies the fact that one can change his destiny if he desperately wanted to.”

Merlin fell down on her knees in front of the dragon and bowed down her head. “Please, _please_ help us,” she sobbed. “A life without Arthur will be an unworthy life.”

Kilgharrah expelled a soft sigh before scooping Arthur’s unconscious body onto his scaly back. Merlin had a difficult time sitting on top of him, and once she finally did, the dragon opened his mighty wings and flew into the sky. They immediately landed on the isle, and Merlin desperately dragged Arthur’s body onto the ground. Turning her shining eyes at the dragon, she asked, “What must I do now?”

“Helping him requires great magic, young sorceress,” he said, gravely staring at the king. Life was slowly slipping away from him, and Merlin knew that if she didn’t act quickly, Arthur would die. “It will be dangerous for you and the child that you are carrying.”

“Can’t we at least try?” she whispered, fearfully clutching her stomach. _‘We must stay strong, my love,’_ she silently thought once again.

Kilgharrah sighed and directed her to scoop a small amount of water from the lake. Merlin did so and poured it inside Arthur’s mouth. “Close your eyes, Merlin,” the dragon said, which she did. Kilgharrah touched a paw against her forehead, and she was suddenly overwhelmed with a spell he had etched into her brain.

“þín bealubenne níedhæse béo gebatad,” she started, her eyes already turning a blinding shade of gold. “Unc níedhæse áleofae sæle furðor **[1]**.”

White light engulfed Arthur’s dying body, and hope bloomed in her heart. When the light disappeared, Arthur was still the same, though, and Merlin fearfully looked at Kilgharrah. “What is happening?” she cried, tightly clutching both of Arthur’s hands. “Why isn’t he awakening?”

“Helping him requires great magic, Merlin,” he reminded her, and she helplessly stared back at her husband.

She repeated the spell, again and again, until she was exhausted, but all those didn’t cause any change on Arthur’s form. His breathing was starting to become faint and soft, and desperately, Merlin placed her head on his chest. “You cannot give up now, Arthur,” she brokenly whispered, lifting her face to gaze down at him. One of her shaky hands landed on his cheek and she gingerly leaned down. “I love you,” she murmured, “Please don’t leave me.”

Her lips then tenderly brushed against his, and to her utmost surprise, Arthur took a sharp intake of breath. His heartbeat increased and the color on his cheeks returned. Merlin released a surprised cry, and launched herself into his arms as Arthur started to weakly cough.

“I’ve told you helping him needs great magic,” Kilgharrah said, fondly staring down at the happy couple.

“Thank you, Kilgharrah,” Merlin said, turning around to face him. The great dragon deeply bowed his head.

“I am forever indebted to you, as you are the last of my kin,” he said. His golden eyes looked at her almost-swollen abdomen and smiled. “And now, a little Dragonlord is on his way to this wonderful world. In the future, I am to serve him instead.”

Merlin and a still-weak Arthur rode on the dragon’s back and they flew into the sky, journeying back home.

* * *

The day was warm and comfortable, and Merlin found herself gazing at the clear, blue sky, her heart already at rest from all the worries and responsibilities she had back in Camelot. She disregarded the fact that her beautiful dress was most probably soiled with dirt right now. She disregarded the fact that the council would give her a disproving glare for ditching yet another council meeting. She disregarded the fact that she still had a mountain of papers waiting to be read and signed back in her bedchambers.

Today was a wonderful day, and Merlin refused to mar it with her responsibilities.

Sighing, her hands lazily grazed on the grassy meadow. Once in a while, she would clutch a small flower in her hand, and she would smile at it, reminding her of glorious summers and playful days back in Ealdor. Hunith came to visit a few weeks ago, but she had left now, and Merlin must admit she now terribly missed her mother and her village.

Camelot was home, though, of course, and she would gladly give up all the riches in the world if it meant she could stay in the beautiful kingdom forever and ever.

A pair of small, chubby hands suddenly encircled around her neck, startling her. Soft giggles from behind her made her grin, and she quickly turned around, attacking her five-year-old son with incessant tickles. “That is punishment for surprising your mother, young man,” she lightly admonished, her eyes twinkling adorably as her son turned red in the face.

Benedict, fondly called as Benny by those around her, gave her a toothy grin. “Sorry, Mummy,” he said.

“Aww, you adorable little thing,” she cooed, pulling him into her arms and dropping kisses on his face. Her son giggled once more and even placed a kiss or two on her cheeks.

“Daddy said we must go home,” Benny said once his mother calmed down. Merlin grimaced, knowing the reprimand she would receive once Arthur sees her.

The queen sighed and stood up, brushing off some dirt from her backside. Although she loved being a queen, sometimes she just _abhorred_ the mundane responsibilities that was required from her.

Grabbing one of Benny’s little hands, they meandered through the forest until they emerged from a clearing. King Arthur stood waiting, his arms tightly crossed against his chest with a reproachful look on his face. Merlin, unable to help it, rolled her eyes at his ridiculousness.

“I’m sorry,” she softly muttered, as Benny broke free from her grasp and ran towards his father. Arthur caught him easily in his arms and effortless lifted him. The boy grinned widely up at his father, and Merlin, in spite of herself, smiled as the king deflated. Arthur constantly voiced out to her that he adored his son and he’d do anything for him.

“Really, Merlin, must you run away every time you need a break?” Arthur asked, outstretching his hand. He waited until she grabbed it before starting to lead his small family back to the castle. “You know what the council will think.”

“After all these years, Arthur, your council still _terrifies_ me,” she said, shuddering in effect. Arthur chuckled at her ridiculous actions, and Merlin grinned.

They finally entered the small village in Camelot and their people stopped whatever they were doing to pay their respects. Merlin smiled wonderfully at everybody, and her heart swelled with pride and joy upon seeing that they smiled back with equal sincerity. Years had passed, yes, but she thought that more and more people were starting to accept her as their queen.

Merlin watched with amusement as her son looked around in quiet wonder. One time, he asked his parents as to why people bow down when they were in the vicinity. Benny was still too young to understand the responsibilities his family had towards the people of Camelot. Although young, Merlin could see that he had the best and _worst_ qualities of his parents.

Physical wise, Benny was a spitting image of his father. With glorious, blond hair (slightly darker than his father’s), and eyes as blue as the deep sea, Merlin could already foresee the coming days when her son would be an absolute heartbreaker. He had his mother’s curly hair, though, and ridiculously enormous ears. Merlin adored this little part of him, and she could tell from Arthur’s look that he seemed pleased with it, too.

Characteristics wise, Benny had a penchant for adventures, which he acquired from both of his parents. When he was still a wee baby, he used to disappear from their sight, having crawled to the darkest alcove or the highest stairs just to investigate. Gaius once pointed out that children were naturally curious, especially when they were at their developing age, but he couldn’t believe how _overly_ curious their child was.

Benny could be ridiculously clumsy at times, too, which he most undoubtedly inherited from Merlin. Numerous times he would get injured, and although this horrified his poor mother, Benny would merely sheepishly grin and apologize.

He has his father’s temper, though, and this made Arthur amused. Benny could throw monumental tantrums at times, and Gaius was reminded of similar incidents during Arthur’s childhood.

Despite all of this, Benny had the makings of a king. He was still terribly young, and he had a lot of things to endure before achieving greatness, but his heart was full of compassion and kindness. He was a very loving boy, too, and Merlin could detect that in the future, their people would adore him.

Benny also had the makings of a sorcerer and a Dragonlord. When he was still a wee babe,  he would have random bursts of accidental magic and Merlin swore to teach him how to have control as soon as posible.

They passed through the Training Grounds, bringing Merlin’s mind back into the present. Benny squirmed in delight and Arthur laughingly placed his son back onto his feet. Benny ran into the vast field, watching with unbridled delight as the knights sparred against each other. One thing that Benny also inherited from his father – his love for swordfights.

Some of the Knights of Camelot noticed their new audience, and stopped sparring all together.

“Hey there, little tyke,” Sir Gwaine exclaimed, rushing forward to carry the little boy onto his shoulders. “Fancy a small battle?”

Benny vigorously nodded and pointed his finger at the closest knight beside Gwaine. Apparently, it was Mordred, who raised an eyebrow in amusent. “I challenge you to a fight, good sir!” the little boy exclaimed. Comically, he removed an invisible gauntlet from his hand and threw it to the ground.

Mordred, playing along, nodded his head and placed a hand against his heart. “I am honoured, my lord,” he murmured reverently. He grinned when the young prince giggled, before jumping from Gwaine’s arms to grab a small, wooden sword.

“Tsk,” Merlin said, crossing her arms as she watched her son play. “One day, he is going to be the death of me.”

“He has the makings of a great knight,” Arthur pointed out, his chest puffing in pride. “I’m sure he will be hailed as the greatest swordsman in Albion. Next to me, of course.”

Merlin rolled her eyes. “I just wish our son doesn't acquire your inflated ego,” she playfully teased, prompting Arthur to boisterously laugh.

The king then held her hand and led her inside, knowing that the knights would take care of their future King.

“Tomorrow is a big day,” Merlin pointed out after a few moments of silence. At the corner of her eyes, she saw how Arthur’s jaw tensed. Fondly, she knew he was trying very hard to mask his nervousness. “You must be nervous.”

“Nervous?” Arthur scoffed, although his voice lacked its usual obnoxious tone. “I do not get nervous.”

“Whatever you say, my lord,” Merlin said with an amused lilt in her voice.

Tomorrow, all the kings of Albion were to dine in Camelot in honor of the peace that had been established ever since Arthur’s reign. It was a momentous event, especially because they were to celebrate it with the king that had started it all. Merlin could understand Arthur’s nervousness, especially because a lot of kings were to arrive and _anything_ could happen.

Arthur worked very hard to bring peace that Albion deserved, and Merlin had supported him all throughout the way. The king already achieved the greatness he was destined to have, and Merlin couldn’t be prouder of her husband.

With a smile, she gave him a brief kiss on his cheek. “I’m sure you’d be brilliant tomorrow,” she assured him, prompting Arthur to smile.

“Sometimes, your faith in me is astounding,” Arthur said as they finally reached their bedchambers.

She gazed at him fondly and placed a hand against his cheek. Tenderly, she ran her thumb against his cheek and Arthur leaned towards her touch.

Gazing at him now, she realized they had gone a _long_ way. They’d been through a lot of trying times, most of which almost caused their lives, but they were still here, still _together_ , and Merlin couldn’t ask for more.

“I’m proud of you, Arthur,” she murmured, and her heart swelled when Arthur gave her a wonderful smile. She never voiced it out loud to him, but she would never tire from seeing his smiling face at all.

“I have a great queen beside me, after all,” he replied, pulling her close as he skimmed his nose against hers.

As Arthur kissed her, Merlin anticipated the future. Once upon a time, she was just a village girl, with a special ability. Once upon a time, she was just an unfortunate little thing, with a penchant for danger and an obvious love for clumsiness. Once upon a time, she disguised as a boy and hid her magic just so she could follow the path towards her destiny.

And now, here was she, the wife of a wonderful man, the mother of an adorable son, and the queen of a beautiful kingdom.

Destiny could be a funny little thing, that much Merlin understood. There were those who had no choice but follow what was ahead of them. But there were those who proved to themselves and others that destiny should not dictate whatever they chose in their life.

Nonetheless, Merlin viewed everything that had happened to her in the past as something special to her. Without them, she wouldn’t be who she was right now.

Arthur slowly pulled away and looked at her adoringly. Such gazes used to be a fantasy to her, and now they were a dream come true.

She didn’t have the ability to see the future, but Merlin could foresee a wonderful future for her family. Trying times might strike them, but she knew they would stay together to guard whatever genuine feelings they have for each other.

Queen Merlin Pendragon swore that until the day she died, she would fiercely protect her love ones.

“I think it is best if we fetch Benedict,” Arthur said, laughing at the thought of his son. “He might be disturbing the training of my knights.”

He held her hand again and led her outside.

His hand was a warm reminder of the love she now received from a man she didn’t thought she would ever love and who would love her back.

Looking at Arthur now, Merlin knew that whatever happened in the future, she would always stay by his side.

* * *

**Fin**

* * *

**[1] þín bealubenne níedhæse béo gebatad. Unc níedhæse áleofae sæle furðor – Your mortal wound will be healed. You will live once more.**


End file.
